


fake it, make it

by zadderlee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Alternating, Remember: If It's Hurting You It's Probably Hurting Me More™, Slow Burn, Texting, aggressive amounts of friendship, by the way i'm absolutely DEFINITELY not abandoning this fic, god they're dumb, have your dentist on speed dial, head-first into volleyball hell, i am not fucking around here, kageyama and hinata in denial: the fic, whoops now there's some Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 43,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zadderlee/pseuds/zadderlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because Kageyama is already dating someone!" </p><p>"Really? Who?"</p><p>“Me!” Hinata shouts suddenly, grabbing Kageyama’s hand as an afterthought and grinning triumphantly, like he’s somehow missed the implications of what he’s just done. Kageyama is going to <em>kill him</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in which kageyama is a big softie and hinata has a big mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, here it is: my first foray into the Haikyuu!! fandom. God help me.
> 
> I am absolutely terrible at updating, so please bear with me on that [gentle sobbing], and I think it'll end up being 25 chapters (they're idiots, so it'll take a while). I hope you enjoy it, and please don't hesitate to leave a comment, even if it literally just says 'you suck'. I promise I'll well up with happy tears regardless.
> 
> [Note: chapter 16 onwards is beta'd, but if you see some kind of ludicrous error before that (or after, if i did some tweaking and Messed Up), please let me know so I can fix it ASAP - I have nightmares about bad spelling, punctuation and grammar urgh]
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/) \- come talk about these dumb dumbs in all caps with me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿  
> ~zadderlee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end (for Kageyama's sanity).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha what am I doing

For reasons he cannot fathom, Kageyama has always been popular with girls.

Perhaps they misinterpret his general disinterest as being cool and mysterious; perhaps it's because he's tall and, most of the time, his hair behaves itself (unlike certain other idiots he won't mention). Perhaps they have some kind of weird fantasy in which they, of all people, could be the one to make Kageyama loosen up a little, perhaps they think they could - god forbid - make him smile. There could be a certain challenge aspect to it, he supposes. He still doesn't understand.

In the future, he knows he'll marry a nice girl and they'll build a life together with nothing but love and their own two hands. In the future, he'll open himself up. Look for someone he'll be comfortable with - _happy_ with; someone with whom he'll share his life. 

But for now, and for the next few years at least, volleyball is all he cares about. He wants to make it to Nationals, one day, with his team at his side. He wants to play against bigger and better teams - teams with no holes they can take advantage of, strong teams with super aces and iron walls and geniuses - and  _win_. He wants to make good on his promise to make Hinata invincible.

What he doesn't get is why no one else seems to accept this.

For the fourth time in as many weeks, he's had to turn down a girl in person, telling her that he wants to focus on volleyball, thanking her, accepting any gifts because he doesn't know what else to do and trying to stop his face from doing anything too scary.

He has quite a sizeable collection of love letters, tucked into nice-smelling envelopes in an array of pastel shades. He doesn't have the heart to throw them away, even if they're annoying, so he starts stuffing them in a desk drawer, feeling a pang of guilt every time he opens it to add another.

He feels the worst about the letters that are written on the same stationary with the same careful kanji, because not only do girls take the time to write him letters, but some write  _multiple_ letters.

Tanaka and Nishinoya don't understand why he turns them all down, leaning on each other and sighing melodramatically that  _no one is good enough for Kageyama-kun_ and that they're  _just so hungry, wouldn't it be great if girls made_ them  _cookies with tiny icing hearts_ and, on the one occasion he offered them one, he swears they actually teared up.

"You can taste the love!" Tanaka had wailed amidst enthusiastic bites. "Now all other cookies will taste of merely vanilla and indifference!"

"My tongue will never know such happiness again!" Nishinoya had chimed in, and all Kageyama could do was cradle his suddenly pounding head and hope he didn't get a migraine.

He doesn't give them cookies again after that.

He feels like a jerk, puts up with Tsukishima snidely calling him a 'heart-breaker', but it's not like any of these girls even know him. They're not  _in love_ , as some of the letters - and, indeed, some of the braver girls that actually tell him face-to-face - profess. They're earnest, they're (mostly) well thought-out, but they're full of empty sentiment.

As Hinata tells him repeatedly, they probably wouldn't like him if they saw what he’s really like, if they understood that he’s blunt and rude and completely unapologetic about it.

"If you unleash the Kageyama Glare on them, they’ll run for the hills and never bother you again!" Hinata suggests brightly, whenever he brings it up. "But I have no idea why you're so beat up about it. I mean, most guys would just be flattered. You've seen Tanaka-san and Nishinoya-san! They'd do  _very_  bad things to get love letters."

Hinata doesn't get it either. Sure, girls like Hinata. (It's more uncommon to  _dislike_ Hinata. It'd be like disliking puppies or sunshine or something.) But, for some reason, quite a few girls treat Kageyama like he’s hung the stars especially for them, like he affects them in some way just by  _being_. It's overwhelming, and not in a very good way. He starts to get sick of always feeling like the bad guy.

Which is when it all really goes to hell.

 

.-.

 

Kageyama and Hinata are walking to the cafeteria one day when he notices. There is a small huddle of girls at the end of the hallway, looking at Kageyama then swiftly turning around again, laughing. He just about manages to stop his eyes from rolling; he knows what happens next. And, sure enough, one girl breaks away from the pack, blushing a shade Kageyama likes to call  _pre-rejection pink_. She’s small, smaller than Hinata even, and has the large, wide eyes of a furry woodland creature. Kageyama wants to hit something.

She waits for them to reach her before calling out, stuttering a "K-Kageyama-kun!" Her friends titter at her nervousness, and for a moment he thinks there's nothing or no one quite as merciless as a group of adolescent girls. They stop when he sends a glare in their direction, whispering to each other and obviously offended – no doubt wondering what their friend sees in  _that guy_.  _I don't know either,_ he wants to shout,  _I'm just as confused as you._

For a moment, he can't place her – can't think how this girl would even know who he is, never mind have feelings for him – but after some frantic thinking, he recognises her: she sits a few desks across from him in class, always flushing red and looking utterly mortified when a teacher calls on her. He doesn't think he's ever seen her whole face before; it’s usually at least partially hidden by her hand or her hair _._ He suddenly remembers her name - Kimura - and he wishes he hadn't. It'll only make it harder, to hear it when attendance is taken and be smacked in the face with this memory.

She seems painfully shy, and Kageyama feels sick to his stomach. It's bad enough turning down the confident girls who take his fumbling rejections in their stride – she's probably been forced into this by her friends, if the way she looks like she's walking to her execution is any indicator, and he has no idea how to put her down gently.

Hinata grins slyly at him, taking a step away and acting like he's looking for something in his bag, and it’s infuriating that he chooses now of all moments to display a hint of tact. Can't the idiot see he needs moral support?

But it’s obvious when Kimura starts talking that nothing is going to make this less painful, and Kageyama’s heart sinks lower and lower. She's one of the reasonable ones, the ones that don't shriek and giggle annoyingly and profess their undying love. Kimura, amidst fits of stuttering and awkward pauses, says she likes him and asks whether they could get a milkshake or something some time, and he could honestly punch himself in the face to get out of this one. She looks like she's about to cry, her eyes red and blinking frantically and Hinata  _finally_ seems to have clued into the awkward atmosphere. He's staring at Kageyama, as if willing him to have some sort of perfect speech planned that won't end in – literal – tears, but Kageyama's got nothing.

"I'm really sorry,” he begins, and she wilts slightly; Kageyama winces, and continues. “I'm flattered, but I can't go out with you because-" He freezes.  _Oh dear god no._  He must have done some unspeakable things in a past life, because he really does have nothing at all. _Nada. Zilch. Zip._   _Sorry ma'am, we're closed._ She's deflating before his very eyes, and he tries frantically to think of a good excuse, but comes up completely blank. He’s desperate, then, because his awkward pause beats any of hers by a long shot.  _Why can't he think of anything? Any excuse!_ He's seriously contemplating telling her he's an alien and has to return to his home planet by next Tuesday, when Kageyama’s gaze slides over Hinata beside him. 

He’s staring at Kimura, watching the way she’s hunching in on herself with his brow creased in thought. It’s the face he does when he gets one of his absolutely, monumentally terrible ideas – the ones that Kageyama ultimately goes along with – and Kageyama just about has time to send out a plea to the universe before he speaks. 

"Because Kageyama is already dating someone!" is what Hinata comes up with. The universe can’t help him now.

"Really? Who?" Kimura asks, surprised, then promptly looks like she's swallowed her own tongue. "Not to say- um-" She trails off, flushing scarlet, but Kageyama barely notices her. They're right back at square one – if not square zero, because surely he’s in a worse position than he was before.

“Me!” Hinata shouts suddenly, grabbing Kageyama’s hand as an afterthought and grinning triumphantly, like he’s somehow missed the implications of what he’s just done. Kageyama is going to _kill him._ He’s attracted the attention of everyone in the vicinity with his loud declaration, some of whom clock their joined hands and do a double-take. The whispering starts up almost immediately, and Kageyama is going to kill  _everyone_ , because he can’t think of any other way to contain the fall-out.  _He should have just gone with the alien thing._

The worst part of the entire situation, however, is that he can’t think of anything better. Kimura at least has been distracted from her state of near-tears by this turn of events, and  _god damn it, he’s going to have to go along with it, isn’t he._

Kageyama pastes on a smile he hopes doesn’t look as menacing as it feels. “Yes, that’s right. Sorry.” He forces the words out through gritted teeth, squeezing Hinata’s hand so hard that he makes a quickly stifled noise of pain. Kimura and Kageyama are stuck in a stalemate of sorts, staring at each other with resigned embarrassment, before Kageyama, at a loss, nods jerkily at her and tugs Hinata down the corridor, leaving her blocking the foot traffic, still stupefied. After a long moment, she turns back to her friends, shrugs in an exhausted kind of way, and moves to join them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: in which two idiots concoct a plan


	2. in which two idiots concoct a plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is about to unleash some almighty fury and Hinata hopes for a quick death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to the first chapter! So many joyous tears were shed from the wealth of comments. So many. As in, my upholstery will have water stains for the next millennia. 
> 
> Here's chapter two (it's a long[er] one!) a couple of days early as a thank you! I hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> ~zadderlee

Kageyama is going to kill him – Hinata has never been more certain of anything in his life. He’s dragging him off right now to strangle him with his bare hands and will dump his body where no one will ever find it. Or, better yet, he’ll get him when he least expects it, maybe even making it look like an accident. Kageyama will toss the ball at his head so hard his brain will come out of his ears, or he’ll sabotage the brakes on his bike so he'll fall into a ditch and break his neck, or maybe he’ll smile at him and wait for him to simply evaporate in terror. Hinata sincerely hopes it won’t be the latter; there are some things worse than death.

But what actually happens is that Kageyama shoves him through what seems like endless hallways, until they finally reach the patch of grass behind the gym, where they stop. He pushes him down onto the grass and stares at him for a long moment, seemingly speechless with rage. His face is impassive, and that is when Hinata knows he’s fucked. The last thing he’s ever going to see is the slight twitching of Kageyama’s eyebrows.

He stares at Hinata for two minutes straight, who is thinking about offing himself to save Kageyama the trouble, when he abruptly breaks eye contact. He walks away stiffly, and Hinata has this absurd image of him striding off into the distance, never to be seen again. ( _“Hey Hinata, do you know why Kageyama isn’t at practice?” “Oh, I’m not sure. But it might be something to do with me telling everyone that we’re dating, which in turn made him flee the country. You know, perhaps.”_ )

He returns, however, with a box of milk and flops down next to Hinata; he wants to laugh – only Kageyama would get a milk box in an attempt to calm himself down. However, since he values his life and knows what a fragile string it’s hanging by, he says nothing and waits for Kageyama to finish it.

He gets through it in record time, fingers clenching around the tiny box until it crushes, and Hinata gulps. He’s taken back to when they first met, before he knew what a loser Kageyama was, and Kageyama had terrified a bunch of mean kids on his team into leaving with their tails between their legs. He’d wondered, then, what kind of idiot would ever provoke someone like him, and today he has a definitive answer: his kind of idiot. He and Kageyama fight all the time, but Hinata hasn't feared for his survival like this since the time he hit him on the head with a volleyball.

At last, Kageyama sighs, turning to look at him. He actually looks angry now, which means he’s calmed down significantly; Hinata feels weak with relief.

“Why?” is all he asks, voice nearly a growl. Hinata is no longer relieved.

“I don’t know!” he groans, his head in his hands. “It was the first thing I thought of! I mean, usually it’s kind of funny when you turn down girls, seeing as you do that embarrassed pinchy thing with your mouth and the girls that confess to you are pretty much always the over-confident ones that storm off in a huff. Remember when one of them slapped you and you had a red handprint on your face for the rest of the day? That was one of the funniest-” Kageyama takes a swing at him, and Hinata dives out of the way at the last second, backtracking hastily.

“It’s  _usually_ funny, but this time it was  _agonising._ I wanted to think of something that would make her feel better, like it wasn’t just you turning her down because she wasn’t good enough or something. I couldn’t just leave you to handle it, because you barely know how to interact with humans at the best of times-” he dodges the shove easily, expecting it, “-and did you  _see_  her eyes? She was like a baby deer or something! The best reason I could think of was that you were dating someone else, and how was I supposed to know she’d find it so shocking that she’d want to know who it was?”

“You’re such an idiot! Of course she’d want- Fucking hell, Hinata. Why, then, if saying I’m dating someone is justifiable, did you say I’m dating  _you_?” His mouth puckers as he forms the word, like he’s tasted something bad, and Hinata tells himself it’s ridiculous to feel offended.

“I said I don’t know! This is what I get for helping.” Hinata sniffs, disgusted by his ungratefulness. This time, Kageyama manages to grab him, pulling his hair even while Hinata kicks him in the shin.

“Look what situation your ‘helping’ got us into!”

“Oh, come on, it could have been worse!”

“Oh really?  _How_?” Kageyama raises an eyebrow in a perfect expression of disdain, and Hinata briefly marvels at the eloquence of it.

“At least I didn’t invent a fake girlfriend or something. I mean, that would be a pretty complicated lie.”

“And what exactly isn’t complicated about this situation?”

“Urgh, stop making sense Kageyama, it’s freaking me out!” He kicks Kageyama especially hard, but his hands don’t budge. Hinata sighs, stubbornly refusing to stop struggling; his grip has loosened enough that it doesn’t hurt anymore, but Hinata can’t give up. Not against Kageyama. Not ever. “I don’t know, okay. I don’t really know why I said it, but I did.”

“What the hell are we going to do now?” Kageyama asks, suddenly completely serious. This question sobers them both up, Hinata sitting up from the near-foetal position he'd adopted in self-defence and Kageyama releasing Hinata’s head, leaving his hair sticking up even more than usual (if that is at all possible).

“Well, if we tell everyone we broke up,” Hinata starts, and they grimace simultaneously (because being  _together_ in the first place is a pretty terrifying concept), “you’ll lose your excuse for not going out with that girl and you’ll have to deal with that whole disaster again.”

Kageyama shudders. “I don’t think I can face doing that a second time.”

“Me  _n_ _either_ , and I was just standing next to you! Like a baby deer, Kageyama.  _Like a baby deer._ ”

Kageyama groans his agreement. “You know, if I were a jerk like Tsukishima, I wouldn’t have to deal with shit like this. After that one time with the girl who touched his headphones when he wasn’t paying attention to her, girls avoid him like the plague. Maybe I should try scaring them off.” Kageyama’s got on his thinking frown, and Hinata snorts.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you don’t scare them off without trying. Your face _is_ pretty scary.” Kageyama just swats at him half-heartedly. They’ve reached a sort of equilibrium: occasionally, when they’re tired of bickering over what feels like every little thing, there’s an unspoken agreement to just let a few jibes slide. Not all of them, though – they have reputations to maintain.

“Shut up.”

“That was weak, Kageyama. You can do better than that.” Kageyama looks ridiculously offended by this remark, as if ‘shut up’ is the wittiest comeback in existence, and Hinata can’t help but laugh.

“What? You-” He stops suddenly, his face paling as he comes to a horrible realisation. “Oh crap, I just thought of something. If we…broke up, even more girls – perhaps even guys, now that people think you swing that way – might want to ask you out. You know, to catch you on the rebound? I didn’t…tell that girl you were gay or anything, so I think I might have accidently doubled the number of people bothering you with confessions and love letters. Um…sorry?”

Kageyama looks absolutely murderous for five heart-stopping seconds, breaking their fragile truce, then promptly collapses on his back with a groan. “I didn’t even think of that. Thanks, you fucking colossal dumbass. Thanks a whole fucking bunch.”

Hinata falls down beside him, looking up at the clouds. It’s a clear day with a light breeze – nothing unusual about it. He wonders idly about how everything seems the same, how everything around them is exactly as it was before. Surely something has to have changed, to balance out what has just happened, what has been set in motion. Life is funny like that; when you feel like the sky should be shaking apart with thunder and lightning to match what’s happening in your own head, you’re faced with a clear day with a light breeze.

“Maybe...maybe we could fake it,” Hinata says without thinking, instantly wanting to take it back.

Kageyama unleashes Homicidal Glare #6, and at this point, Hinata is too emotionally drained to react at all; there is only so much mortal terror one person can handle in the space of about half an hour.

“Fake it? I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean. I really, really hope you don’t mean what I think you mean.”

“Well, since we can be reasonably sure everyone will know about this by tomorrow, we really can’t get out of this without having to explain ourselves. If we come clean, that’d probably look weirder than just pretending for a week or so. We can act nicer to each other, buy each other stuff and hold hands or something. Then we can break up, say we’re better as friends and teammates. We could even say it’s getting in the way of volleyball or something, to make the team less suspicious- Oh god, the team. The team! What the _hell_ are we going to tell the team?”

“Woah, wait, back up a second. You want to  _pretend to date me_? Me? Us? What?” The mixture of confusion, rage and dawning horror on Kageyama’s face would be funny in any other situation. At present, it only makes Hinata feel vaguely ill.

“It’s not like I’m happy about it or anything! What, you think I’ll enjoy holding your clammy hands? No! But I honestly think that it’s our best option.”

“This is your fault. This is your fault and I hate you.”

“I kind of hate me too right now. Seriously though, think about it: we stand a little bit closer together than usual for a couple of weeks, or we tell everyone it was a lie and everyone thinks we’re complete weirdos? And if that girl finds out we lied to her, she might actually cry, and I can’t handle that!” Just the thought of it makes him want to find her and give her a hug.

Kageyama is silent for a while, refusing to meet his eyes. When he does, he’s frowning, his cheeks a little pink; Hinata squashes the simultaneous urges to ask him what he’d been thinking about to cause that response and to  _coo_ at him. Kageyama’s blush is almost cu-

 _No!_ Hinata brings this train of thought to a screeching halt. Since when does he find anything Kageyama does even a little bit endearing? What is  _wrong_ with him today?

Apparently there is someone on his side in the universe, because Kageyama doesn’t suddenly gain the ability to read minds. He barrels on, oblivious to the mini-meltdown Hinata is experiencing. “Suppose…hypothetically, we decided to go through with this. What would the rules be?”

Hinata blinks. “Rules?”

“You know, where we draw the line? Because I’m not kissing you even if you paid me.”

Hinata puffs up in indignation. “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m great at kissing!” Kageyama doesn’t need to know that the only people he’s kissed are female and related to him.

“So you want me to kiss you?” Kageyama’s gone completely red with embarrassment, somehow still managing to look terrifying, and Hinata chokes on his own spit.

After a few seconds of coughing, he manages to get out, “No! Not at all! I was just saying- Forget it. We would absolutely  _not_ kiss in this hypothetical scenario.”

“So what then? You said holding hands, being…nice to each other, buying each other stuff…anything else?” Kageyama won’t meet his eyes again, and Hinata is immensely glad.

“I don’t know…maybe we could go over to each other’s places more? So it looks like we spend more time together?”

“But no kissing, or…other stuff?” They both stare resolutely at the sky, which is still infuriatingly normal. Hinata wants to hide behind his hands, but he just about manages to keep them at his sides.

“No, dumbass Kageyama! It wouldn't be that much different from how we are now.”

Kageyama grumbles something under his breath about the insult, but doesn’t attempt to maim him, which Hinata is going to call progress.

“Do you really think this is the best idea? That we’ll be able to do it?” Hinata turns to glance at Kageyama, and finds him already looking at him. He looks away quickly.

“I think we’re going to have to. Like I said, it doesn’t have to be much different. We’d just be calling it something else.” Hinata chews on his lip anxiously. Who would've thought that he’d be convincing Kageyama to become his fake-boyfriend today? Certainly not him.

“Then…let’s do it. I don’t think we have much of a choice here, thanks to you.”

_So, this is happening. Fuck._

“Oh. Um…okay.” The clouds are extremely fascinating. So fascinating, in fact, that he isn’t going to look away from them, perhaps for a very long time. What has he just done? He knows he lauches himself into things head-first without thinking them through sometimes, but seriously, _what_ has he just persuaded Kageyama to do? They've only just decided on the plan and he already feels nauseous. What if they can’t keep it up? What if someone thinks they aren't coupley enough and they have to come clean anyway? What if the team have something to say? What are they even going to tell them? No one knows better how much he and Kageyama fight than them. What if they don’t even believe it at all? What if they do and tease them mercilessly? Urgh,  _Tsukishima._ Tsukishima will love this.

He sits up, turning to tell Kageyama that, actually, it’s a pretty stupid idea, that they can think of something else, surely, when he feels a sharp pain in his arm.

Kageyama has just pinched him. He’s just pinched him. And it  _hurt_. Just when he’s about to hand him a get out of jail free card, he pinches him! Hinata would say he can’t believe it, but since he’s, you know, actually  _met_ Kageyama, he really can.

“Wha-!”

“Save it,” Kageyama cuts in abruptly, scowling. “If you make this weird, I swear I will pinch you again, and it will _hurt_.” _That was Kageyama_ not  _trying to hurt him_ _?_  Then he scoffs, as if he's the one that can’t believe it. “Of course; you have a stupid idea, and  _I_ have to be the one to talk  _you_ into it. Look, I can’t see another way out of this, and you know it's bad when the least embarrassing option is letting the school think your mouth has been in the general vicinity of my face. We’re in this together, all right? I’ve seen you puke before, and you weren’t weird about that, and this is – debatably – less gross, so calm the fuck down.”

Hinata’s chest feels inexplicably warm. Kageyama really is a loser. A surprisingly considerate loser - even if he's terrible at showing it. “Okay,” he says, breathing deeply. “Okay. So we’ll do this for a couple of weeks, then we ‘break up’ and go back to being friends. Do we have a deal, then? No backing out?”

“You don’t get to say that to me when you were just having an episode,” Kageyama grumbles. “Yes, you idiot! We have a deal. Starting now, we’re fake-dating.”

Hinata nods. “Right.”

Just then, the bell signalling the end of lunch sounds, and they both groan. Kageyama stands, holding out his hand to pull Hinata up hurriedly. They brush the dirt off their uniform pants before heading off back to their respective classrooms, Hinata tugging Kageyama behind him in a reversal of their earlier position.

“Aw man, I completely forgot about lunch! Urgh, Kageyama!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! And if you haven’t noticed, I haven’t eaten either.”

“Now we know what the first boyfriend-y thing you’ll do is: buy me a meat bun after practice!”

“Idiot. If anything, you’re buying me a meat bun.”

Their bickering continues until they part ways, neither noticing how Hinata clutches Kageyama’s hand the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: in which kageyama can't concentrate for shit and nishinoya gossips with tanaka


	3. in which kageyama can't concentrate and nishinoya gossips with tanaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is a terrible student (and horrendously embarrassing) and Nishinoya has heard something hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! To anyone still reading this: thank you! Everything (hits, comments, kudos, comments, bookmarks and did I mention comments?) is appreciated :)
> 
> Also, sorry this one is a little late, but I hope it's worth the wait [waits to be pelted with tomatoes and potentially less forgiving objects]. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> ~zadderlee

Having a teacher’s words wash over him without any of them sinking in is a common sensation for Kageyama. After all, he has much more important things to think of: volleyball, mostly. In lessons where he can’t muster up even a grain of interest in anything going on – lessons about quadratic equations and English past participles and how some dead guy made a mess of things – his mind will wander: to his old team, to his new team, to practice and matches and practice matches. He thinks of Kindaichi and Oikawa, the captain and setter from Nekoma, of Suga and Asahi and Ennoshita and Yamaguchi. He thinks about them all at their best. Of all the players he’s known, both strong and weak, and what he can learn from all of them.

He thinks about the elation of getting the ball right where it needs to be at just the right time, of his toss connecting solidly with someone’s hand and surging over the net: a clean, perfect line of motion.

He thinks of Kitagawa Daiichi, of his team that felt more like his opponents than the people on the other side of the net. He thinks about the heaviness of a crown on his head, about how no one had told him just how simple it was to take it off and toss it aside. All he had to do was have a little faith. Just a little, just enough to take a few chances, to stop playing the whole game by himself, and people like Hinata would take care of the rest, would _believe_ enough for all of them and then some.

He thinks about the way Hinata spikes his tosses: like they’re something incredible, like he’s so _grateful_ for any opportunity to touch the ball. He thinks of the way Hinata looks at his hands after he hits a toss, like he can’t get his head around the fact that _he did that, he helped score that point_. He thinks about the shock on their opponent’s faces when they come across the oddball quick for the first time, the way their incredulity is both a little insulting (why do they always underestimate them?) and completely intoxicating (the way their opinion of Kageyama, of Hinata, of Kageyama and Hinata, shifts so visibly is heady, addicting). He hasn’t gotten tired of it yet – he hopes he never will.

He thinks of what a great team they make, of how they make each other stronger, and it feels strangely intimate. None of his tosses spiked by other teammates make his heart leap up into his throat quite like Hinata’s; no other teammate could trust him enough to fucking hit his tosses with their _eyes closed_. (He feels like there’s something important in that, something he’s missing, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.)

Whenever he thinks about volleyball, he inevitably thinks of Hinata. Because the two have become interwoven in his mind – inseparably, irrevocably. He’s his teammate, his partner and – more recently, over countless afternoons of practice, after training camps and lunch breaks and even the odd sleepover – his friend. Maybe, if he were feeling daring (and just over on the wrong side of gooey sentimentality), he’d call him his _best friend_.

He’s never had a best friend before, not really, so he doesn’t know what it would involve. He assumes, though, that fighting and insulting each other constantly don’t really fit the descriptor. But sometimes, when they’re together and Hinata says something stupid, Kageyama can’t stop the laugh that erupts from him even if he tries. And he thinks, _surely this is it, right? What else could a best friend be?_

And suddenly, without even realising it, he’s gone to thinking about Hinata and volleyball to just Hinata, and it’s happening more and more.

That afternoon, he doesn’t even start with volleyball. His brain goes straight to Hinata, with his horrible ideas and ridiculous compassion. Hinata, who can’t stand someone else’s unhappiness. It’s frustrating that whenever he tries to get properly mad about the whole situation, all he can think of is Hinata’s screwed-up face of concentration; Hinata’s petulant pout; Hinata’s furrowed brow. Kageyama knows Hinata is punishing himself with this whole idea just as much as he’s punishing Kageyama, but that’s not much of a comfort.

And yet, he doesn’t feel grossed out by it. Not really. He thinks he should – at least a little. It is Hinata, after all, with his dumb face and dumb hair and dumb everything. Hinata, with his stubbornness and enthusiasm and conviction. Hinata, who has pushed his way into Kageyama's life and made himself at home.

A few months ago, he’d never have agreed to this insane plan. He’d have set the record straight immediately, regardless of how it made them look, because he couldn’t deal with people thinking he’d be with such an idiot. Now, however, it’s not so bad.

Of course, he was absolutely furious at first – _what kind of idiot thinks it’s a good idea to declare to the hallway and the world that they’re dating their_ straight male _friend anyway –_ and he still feels a low-burning, resigned exasperation. But his reaction could practically be called mellow when compared to how he would’ve reacted before (as in, everyone in the immediate area would be dead and the incident would be on the news at this very moment). Now, he has to feign that the whole idea freaks him out, feign the scorn that used to coil so readily in his throat, waiting to be unleashed as words that cut to the quick. His insults feel more like endearments sometimes, and he wonders when that happened.

He can’t bring himself to feel repulsed, even though Hinata _is_ an idiot, and ridiculous, and decidedly male. He doesn’t know quite how to feel about it all, if he’s honest. There’s just a squirmy sensation in his stomach, odd and insistent, whenever he thinks about it. He has no idea what’s causing it.

Or, perhaps he does. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact he sometimes catches himself staring at Hinata, just for a moment or two. He’s mid-sentence, mid-laugh, and Kageyama just happens to glance over. But his gaze catches on him, lingers, and he can’t help himself.

Because sometimes Hinata’s nose scrunches up fascinatingly, his eyes crinkling around the edges. Sometimes his eyes light up, and he’s suddenly all shades of amber and gold and so, so bright that it almost hurts to look at him. Sometimes Kageyama looks and wants to keep on looking.

But it’s not his fault if he gets distracted by his smile, or his eyes, or his hair! Who wouldn’t? It’s not weird to stare when someone is that strange and impossible and _vibrant_. Because, for one thing, how can hair be such a ridiculous shade of-

“Kageyama-kun! What is the answer to question 3?” He’s snapped out of his increasingly worrying thoughts by his teacher, who is standing with her hands on her hips, a dark, shapely eyebrow raised in the universal sign for _‘you have the attention span of pond weed and have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?’_

“Orange!” is what comes out of his mouth without his say-so, because Hinata’s hair has clearly put some sort of curse on him.

“No, the answer to question 3 is not ‘orange’. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, seeing as this is a math class.” Kageyama sinks into his chair in abject mortification while the whole class snickers at him. He wants to call off the entire stupid thing right now, because if something like this happens again, he’s going to spontaneously combust. But he knows he can’t, not after he made such a big deal about it to Hinata. Stupid Hinata.

It’s all his fault, especially what just happened. Especially that.

 

.–.

 

“Hey, have you heard the rumours?” Nishinoya asks. He’s waiting for Tanaka to get his stuff together so they can get to practice; he’s already been at least a century and Nishinoya can _feel_ his hair greying.

In the meantime, he’s amusing himself with regaling the fanciful tales of the day to Tanaka – the sort of things that only ensnare his interest when he’s been staring at white-washed walls for too long: love lost, love spurned, the goop served in the cafeteria under the fantastically vague name of ‘Western Surprise’ (and whether it contains actual westerners, which would indeed be a surprise).

The stories that don’t manage to make it into his– admittedly rather short – attention span are usually about who has gotten together with who. There are no tears, no gore; just two people being infuriatingly mushy for about a week or two until the honeymoon phase wears off. This time, however, he’s heard something _fantastic._

“What rumours?” Tanaka returns, his head buried in his bag, before crowing out in victory when he unearths whatever he’s been looking for.

“So you haven’t heard? Oh man, they’re brilliant!” Nishinoya is practically jumping up and down with glee, and Tanaka feels energised from mere proximity – a sensation that’s become very familiar to him after years with the libero.

“What rumours?” Tanaka repeats more insistently, cradling his newly-found phone to his chest like a mother holding her new-born baby.

“The rumours about Kageyama and Hinata!”

“Oh yeah? What have they done now?” A slow grin spreads across his face. “If it’s about the dean and his wig again, I say pics or it didn’t happen.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. Honestly, you won’t believe it. The things people come up with!”

“Well, what then?”

“You’re not gonna believe it!”

“I’m starting to think you don’t even have anything to tell me,” Tanaka muses.

“People are saying,” Nishinoya pauses for a few seconds to compose himself – and make Tanaka swear under his breath – before continuing, “that they’re dating!”

They stare at each other for a long moment, their faces impassive aside from how their bottom lips are quivering dangerously. Then Nishinoya snorts, which sets them both off into fits of laughter. Tanaka keeps trying to stop, then thinks of Hinata trying to compliment Kageyama about something other than volleyball, or giving him a kiss on the cheek, and imagines the absolutely _hilarious_ face Kageyama would make and keeps on laughing. For a few dizzying seconds, Tanaka can’t breathe, then manages to gulp down a few desperate lungfuls of air. Nishinoya thumps him unhelpfully on the back, and Tanaka swats his hands away, still laughing.

“Really? People are actually saying that?” Tanaka wheezes out finally. “Has anyone actually _seen_ them together before?” He wraps his arms around his aching stomach, almost falling over from the force of the outburst.

“I know! I mean, they barely even get along! How stupid can people get? If they started dating, they’d kill each other in about half an hour, tops. I'm talking blood  _everywhere._ And coach would make us clean it up too, seeing as it would probably be in practice and would probably involve a volleyball. Just think about how much extra work that would be. I mean, it might  _stain._ ”

“Oh, that’s brilliant. Thanks for that, Noya-san.” Tanaka completely ignores Nishinoya's tangent; it's a method that's served him well so far (there's a thing called plausible deniability, and he'd like to be able to hold onto it). He’ll be in a good mood for the next _week_ from this little tidbit.

“No problem. I mean, I had to find someone who would appreciate how _dumb_ it all is.”

Tanaka is _still laughing_ , and his knees are beginning to feel weak. “Seriously, if they ever end up together, I’ll dance around the school in my boxers.”

Nishinoya grins, considering Tanaka for a moment. “You’re on. Even if the chances are astronomical, I can’t turn that down. Hell, I’ll even do it with you!” He spits in his hand, holding it out in front of him. Tanaka spits in his own hand, before grabbing Nishinoya’s and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.

“You’re going down!”

“No, you are!”

“Hey, wait,” Tanaka starts, letting go of Nishinoya’s hand abruptly, “what bet did we even make just now?”

Nishinoya pauses for a moment, considering. “Um…a friendly one?”

“Hmm…okay. Jeez, I think I need to sit down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chrome tried to change 'Yamaguchi' to 'machine-gun' and 'Nishinoya's' to 'furnishings' and I am still laughing.
> 
> Next chapter: in which hinata and kageyama lose the will to live (and hold hands)


	4. in which hinata and kageyama lose the will to live (and hold hands)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga is a god among men and Hinata has no idea what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Here's another chapter, on time for once :) Please clap accordingly. 
> 
> I hope you're all still enjoying this story and, as always, any sort of feedback is appreciated, especially comments (I love hearing what you guys think). I reply to every comment like a fiend, so you can be sure that I'll 1) read it and 2) melt into a happy gelatinous lump afterwards.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter even half as much as I liked writing it! 
> 
> ~zadderlee

On the way to practice after school, Hinata and Kageyama decide on a rough story to tell anyone who asks: they've been dating a few weeks and have thus far kept it a secret, but have recently decided to be open about their relationship. They also decide to hold hands as they walk into the club room, just to get it out of the way as soon as possible.

All their teammates will know by tomorrow anyway, if they haven’t already heard, so they might as well get a head start. Who knows what rumours have started about them by now? They agree, after a hushed argument and a sudden attack on Hinata’s hair, that they’d infinitely prefer to tell the team in their own way, which won’t involve scandalous exaggerations (as long as Hinata has anything to say about it).

They’re the last to arrive, and when they walk in, everyone turns to look. Tanaka opens his mouth, probably to ask them where they've been, when he notices their linked fingers. Hinata blushes at the way his eyes bug out a bit, and his blush only deepens when everyone else notices too.

“So it is true,” Tanaka mutters, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“I knew it!” someone crows from the back of the room. Suga makes his way through the small crowd that has assembled around the duo, grinning evilly (which, because it’s Suga, still looks rather pleasant). “Didn’t I tell you guys? All right, pay up!” There’s a collective groan from the second and third years, and Yamaguchi just looks a little confused (Hinata can’t blame him). Tsukishima, however, is smirking in a way that makes Hinata gulp. He’ll find a way to milk this for _months._

“Wait, you guys… _knew_?” Kageyama demands, finding his voice before Hinata, who could only open and close his mouth like a fish. They’re still holding hands, and he worries in passing about whether his palms are sweaty enough for Kageyama to notice.

“Of course we knew. Well, I did. Tanaka and Nishinoya were adamant you wouldn’t get together, because they’re idiots, Daichi bet it’d take you guys a couple more months to figure it out, and the others said it would take you at least until your second year. But _I_ knew better.” His smile will feature heavily in Hinata’s next nightmare.

“But we fight all the time!” Hinata insists, finally regaining control of his vocal cords. “How could you have guessed from the way we act around you guys?”

“Fighting? Is that what the kids are calling it now? In my day we called it flirting.” Daichi has joined Suga in smiling terrifyingly, and Hinata feels a little faint.

Tanaka smacks himself on the forehead. “Pigtail-pulling, of course! Actual hair pulling, in the case of you guys. The signs were _all there, jeez._ And if you guys were going to kill each other, you’d have probably done it by now. On the first day of school, probably, or _definitely_ after that incident during the Seijou practice match with the ba-” Suga coughs, and Tanaka cuts himself off. Kageyama squeezes his hand in what could be misconstrued as an affectionate gesture, but his bones creak with the force of it, so Hinata doesn’t get the wrong idea. _No one is going to let him forget about that._

“How did I miss it _completely_?” Nishinoya cuts in, sounding little irritated with himself; Hinata contemplates the potential financial ruin his friend could be experiencing, and winces sympathetically. He would be annoyed too if he’d have to beg Suga for spare change for the rest of his life (not that that would ever happen; if he ever asked, Suga’d probably give him a hug and buy him a meat bun). Then again, knowing Nishinoya, it’s probably the principle of the thing more than the actual loss. 

"You guys are already attached at the hip most of the time, so it’s not such a massive leap," he continues. "Also, no one turns down that many girls without there being something up. It's actually pretty damn obvious." Hinata hears a Tsukishima-like snort at that. There's a low mutter of, "Is anything obvious to you, you overgrown squirrel?" and a weird choking noise that's probably a laugh from Yamaguchi. Thankfully for Tsukishima (and Tsukishima's limbs, which probably enjoy remaining attached to his body), Nishinoya doesn't hear him, too absorbed in his train of thought.

Then, Nishinoya blinks as if he's reached an epiphany, which can't mean anything good. He starts smiling as well, slowly – in a way that smacks of a lion toying with its prey - and Hinata’s sympathy is very, very gone. “Oh well; more girls for me!” He wonders whether making a run for it is an option, because three smirks – nope, Tanaka’s joined in, that’s four – from those guys is about equal to a Kageyama smile, and it’s too much for him to handle. (Asahi apparently agrees, because he takes one look at them and flees to the far corner of the room.)

His thoughts must show on his face, because Kageyama’s grip on his hand tightens, preventing any escape attempts. Running is apparently _not_ an option; it looks like Kageyama wasn’t kidding with his _we’re in this together_ comment.  

“You seriously bet that we’d end up dating?” Hinata still hasn’t gotten over that, that people were sure enough about them eventually getting together to _put money on it._ Just the thought of it makes his stomach go all squirmy.

“Sure! Easy money.” Suga is _still smiling,_ and Hinata knows Suga has, under layers of kindness and composure, a mischievous streak a mile wide, but he keeps on exceeding his expectations. A gambling ring? What would he do next? Hinata shudders; he doesn’t particularly want to find out.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, what are you going to spend our money on?” Daichi asks with a smirk, looking like he already knows the answer.

“I’m going to give it to the local animal shelter. They’re funded entirely by donations, so they’ll really appreciate it.” Hinata takes back everything; Suga is an actual _saint_ , because who the hell does that? Who wins a bet and gives the entire small fortune to charity? Well, Suga apparently. Hinata’s one step away from starting a fan club.

“Of course you are,” Daichi replies, endlessly fond.

Kageyama, having missed the exchange entirely, is still staring at Suga like he just killed his mother, is insisting on taking her place and is now threatening to take him underwear shopping.

“What- You- But how did-”

“How did we figure it out?” Suga finishes, somehow managing to glean meaning from Kageyama’s babbling. “Did you guys seriously think you were being subtle? _Seriously?_ I mean, the looks you guys give each other are enough to give you away, never mind anything else.”

“L-Looks?” Hinata’s brain is experiencing some kind of meltdown.

“Oh dear, I think we broke them.” Suga manages to materialise two chairs out of nowhere (assumingly putting his magical powers to good use at last), which Kageyama and Hinata gratefully sink into.

“Look, forget all that other stuff for a minute, this is important.” He gives a pointed look to everyone shouting behind him, and they all quiet down abruptly. “Thank you. Now, I want you to know that all you guys have to take away from this potentially traumatising experience – sorry about that – is that we support you, and we wish you happiness together.” Suga grins at them both, everyone else nodding and offering affirmatives in the background. Well, except for Tsukishima, probably, but Hinata isn’t even going to look in his direction, for fear he might see it as antagonistic and decide he has something to add.

“Really?”

“Of course. That’s something you should never doubt.” Hinata is extremely glad there are people like Sugawara Koushi; they make the world better just by being in it.

He’s not sure what he was expecting – he didn’t think they’d react badly, at least – but he didn’t prepare himself for the easy approval they’ve just received. There was no hesitation, not even a moment. Suga said it like it should have been obvious, and perhaps it should have been. He knows now, more than ever before, just how lucky he is to have found solace amongst these people, these people that have his back both on the court and off of it. And in spite of the vague feeling of nausea that’s sweeping over Hinata – because he can’t quite convince his stomach that everything has turned out okay – he feels warmed by their acceptance. Which, when he stops to think about it, makes no sense at all, really. _Jeez, what a weird day._

Hinata manages a watery smile, knowing that he’ll have to react for the both of them, and just about gets out a _thank you._

“Yeah! If you guys can make as good a couple as you do a power duo, you’ll be doing gross things in public in no time.” There’s another collective groan at that, and Nishinoya grins, his goal achieved.

After this, the drama apparently over, the team gradually exits the club room and heads to the gym – some with significantly emptier pockets than before. Tanaka mutters something to Nishinoya as he passes, the only word Hinata hears being ‘boxers’, and Nishinoya pointedly elbows Tanaka in the ribs, muttering back something that sounds suspiciously like _no one has to know, so shut up._ He’s curious for about half a second, before remembering that it’s those two and the less he knows, the better.

Hinata rubs his eyes with his fists, wanting to start the day over and say something different; wanting to start his life over and steer clear of Kageyama Tobio. Except he doesn’t, not really, and that’s the worst part of it all. What he really wants, more than anything else, is to crawl into a dark hole, never to be seen again (or, well, not for a couple of hours at least).

Kageyama slowly loosens his grip on Hinata’s hand, like he thinks if he does it gradually, he won’t notice, until he’s let go completely, and Hinata has to stop himself from grabbing on to it. It’s weird, he knows, but holding his hand had been comforting; a constant reminder that he wasn’t alone, that someone else could fully understand the weirdness of his situation. Instead, Hinata moves his hand from where it’s swinging between them and places it carefully in his lap. He feels completely drained from the roller-coaster of emotions he’s just experienced, though he supposes it could have been worse. It could have been much, much worse, so he’s grateful for that, at least.

He sighs, hoping to forget everything that just happened, at least for a few hours, and play some volleyball. When he looks up, however, he sees Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are still there, which means he won’t get his wish. Clearly, Tsukishima is about to say something devastating.  

Yamaguchi is looking at Tsukishima, evidently puzzled. “C’mon Tsukki, shouldn’t we leave before they start making out or something?” Hinata feels Kageyama flinch next to him and can’t quite bank down the frown that the action causes. Is the thought of it that disgusting to him? And why does he care in the first place? _No, he doesn’t care. And that’s that. He doesn’t._

“There’s something not right here,” Tsukishima says, sounding bored with a conversation that hasn’t even started yet. But his eyes are alight with something that looks like interest, and Hinata feels completely overwhelmed (and more than a bit like a frog about to be dissected).

“What?” Hinata replies, playing dumb and hoping he’ll drop it. He doesn’t want to start a fight with Tsukishima; he’s far too tired for that.

“Don’t get cute. There’s something not right with you two, as a couple, and I’m going to figure out what it is.” The blood runs cold in Hinata’s veins; Tsukishima never disappoints. Hinata splutters for a moment, collecting together a response like a teary child picking up pieces of a broken vase, but Tsukishima doesn’t stick around to hear it. He leaves the club room without another word, Yamaguchi giving them a sort of half-shrug before following him.

There is a moment of silence, then Kageyama finally speaks up.

“What the hell was that?”

Hinata sighs again, though this one is a little shaky. “I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: in which kageyama is absolutely not embarrassed
> 
> [Edit: lol it said 'Seidou' practice match for the longest time - whoops. I'm imagining it and it is fucking great. I just want Eijun and Hinata to go head-to-head tbh]


	5. in which kageyama is absolutely not embarrassed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama can't control his face and Hinata is enjoying himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all of your kudos, comments and bookmarks (and hell, hits are cool too)! I feel all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it. 
> 
> I almost didn't update today, since I'm feeling a bit insecure about my work at the moment, but I kicked my arse into gear and finished the last-minute tweaks I wanted to make. Now, here is where I confess something: I've almost run out of pre-written chapters. Of course, I do know the direction I want to take this fic in. I have an outline and some fully fleshed-out sections here and there. This isn't me saying there will be a hiatus during which I sort my shit out, but it is me saying updates might slow down a tad. 
> 
> I will still aim for weekly updates, but please don't be alarmed/hunt me down and skin me if I skip a few days. This is my first multi-chapter fic, and I am still figuring out how this works as I go, but I'm determined that 1) there won't be month-long periods of nothing and 2) the quality won't suffer just so I can get chapters out on time. I am a student, and I do have a lot on my plate at the moment, but I made a commitment (sort of), and I'm going to honour it. 
> 
> If you like the fic, please don't hesitate to leave a comment. I adore comments. I sit in my cave on top of a pile of comments, guarding them from anyone who may try and steal them from me. Fuck me, I'd make a good dragon. 
> 
> ANYWAY I DIGRESS. Tl;dr I am an idiot but I am an idiot who loves you all. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter!
> 
> ~zadd

Kageyama has a great practice, which ultimately just makes him feel worse. He and Hinata are completely in tune with each other, the ball connecting perfectly with Hinata’s hand before sailing over the net like a dream, and Kageyama loses yet another excuse for calling the whole thing off. Clearly, their ‘relationship’ isn’t inhibiting their performance on the court. If anything, it’ll look to everyone else like it’s enhancing it, like a greater connection has been made between them.

He sees Suga and Daichi smiling from the sidelines like proud parents, sees the way the others look at them from the corners of their eyes, little grins on their faces at how they’re both clicking. He sees it all, and wishes that it made it easier. He thinks about how terrible it would have been to be cast out, though, especially for a relationship that isn’t even real, and feels almost swept away by a tidal wave of relief. But he can’t say he’s surprised: his teammates are loud and brash and relentless, but they are accepting, (mostly) nice and quite often considerate people.

Still, it’s difficult, exhausting even, to pretend, to deceive them into thinking they’re something more than they are. It’s so hard not to snap at anyone, because they’re circling like well-meaning vultures, and he’s so, so tired. He just wants to go home and sleep for approximately five years, but that isn’t an option. Instead, he smiles, just a small up-turn of his mouth, reassures Hinata when he botches a serve instead of insulting him like he normally would, and feels a bit hollow inside. But the important part, the part he was certain was going to be their biggest problem, is that no one questions anything.

Practice is almost over, the time passing without incident. No one’s made any jokes, no one is looking at them funny. The team are acting like it’s already old news for them, like they’d gotten used to the idea of it, of them, ages ago. Like them being together is just something that _is_ , as unremarkable as spring rain or falling autumn leaves. The idea of it unsettles him, though there’s nothing he can say about it now. It actually helps their rather patchy story, because, to his ongoing surprise, everyone believes them. Everyone is content, seemingly uninterested in their love-lives beyond the bet, and completely and utterly convinced.

Everyone, that is, except Tsukishima. Kageyama sees him watching, and it gives him the creeps, mainly because he has no idea what Tsukishima is planning.

He’s no bigot, Kageyama knows, so he isn’t worried about _that_ kind of scathing remark coming from Tsukishima. But he is worried about basically _everything else._ Tsukishima could be on to the embarrassing truth of the whole scheme, merely hours after it was first concocted. He could be planning to reveal the truth to everyone, opening them up to some mortifying questions.

If anyone starts asking him things, he knows he won’t be able to answer. For one thing, he’s a pretty sub-par liar on the best of days. And for another, he has no idea what will happen when people start picking apart their story, searching for grains of truth amidst the lies. He has no idea what they’ll find, what they’ll piece together. He’s afraid that people will get the wrong idea about them. But more than that, he’s afraid they’ll get the _right one_. Though, he doesn't really know what the right idea _is_. Because he never was very good with feelings, especially his own. Not that he has any, of course. Just, you know, if he did. Or something.

But the cherry on top of the pile of shit that is his life right now is that Tsukishima potentially has the power to ruin him. Tsukishima Kei could have the keys to the fucking kingdom at this very moment, and there is nothing Kageyama can do about it. Nothing but hope that he’ll be able to make it through what’s to come with at least a shred of dignity intact. It’s a small, fragile hope – kept safe somewhere no one could ever find it, much less destroy it – but still there. He has to have it. Because if he doesn’t have that hope, he can’t do this, can’t keep walking along this tightrope when he knows there’s no safety net.

Somehow, however, he’s able to push the threat to the furthest corner of his mind: not well-hidden enough that he can forget about it completely, but enough that he’s able to focus. Hinata makes it easier. He’s like a magnet, attracting people’s gazes and holding them with the impossibility of his movements. He invites attention, and it’s surprisingly easy to block it all out, to block everything out except where Hinata’s next toss is going.

Hinata glances his way occasionally, catching his eye before doing something stupid like sticking his tongue out goadingly or pulling faces at him, and that helps too. It reminds him that he’s not alone, that for better or worse, they’re in this together.

As soon as he thinks that, he has to fight down a blush because _what are they, getting married?_ Hinata notices the way he’s scowling and must know he’s embarrassed about something, because he laughs - a short, sharp note of happiness - which stops Kageyama from tossing to him right at the last second. The ball falls uselessly to the floor, everyone turning to look and figure out what the hell is going on. _You won’t get any help from me,_ he thinks.

“What’s up with you, birdbrain?” Tanaka asks, sidling up to them and looking a mixture of confused and concerned; a lot of people look at them like that. “What’s so funny?”

“Kageyama,” he replies. Hinata smiles at him, and it’s like staring straight at the sun - Kageyama half expects the sight to leave an afterimage when he closes his eyes. He scowls, which only makes Hinata's smile wider.

“Why, what’s he doing?” Tanaka turns and scrutinises Kageyama closely for a moment, before turning back with a shrug. “I don’t get it. He just looks angry to me, like usual.” Tanaka is looking at Hinata strangely, like he’s grown a second head and that one is even more of an idiot.

“No, no- That’s not his angry face! Believe me, I am extremely familiar with that one. That right there is his embarrassed face. I know it because it makes him look exactly like my little sister when I catch her eating candy before dinner.”

Kageyama, to his eternal horror, feels his cheeks heat. He tries to cover it up with more scowling, but Hinata doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Aw, your face Kageyama! You've gone all red!” Kageyama entertains the idea of kicking him in the shin, but his expression is soft, and Kageyama knows there’s no malice behind the words. It’s annoying when Hinata does that, when he teases him and grins like light and warmth and good things, and he can’t snap back at him because he’d look like a complete ass. He doesn’t kick him, because he can’t, can’t be the one to wipe that look off his face. He does _imagine_ kicking him, though. Repeatedly.

“Wow, so he has!” Tanaka is grinning too, and Kageyama is _so_ not equipped to deal with this right now. “He really is embarrassed! I’m pretty sure this is the best day of my life. Well, the second best; Kiyoko-san _almost_ smiled at me once. Well, I think. Her mouth might have twitched, come to think of it. It was still a good moment.” Tanaka has his dreamy expression on, meaning he’s completely clocked out, so at least now he only has Hinata to deal with.

“I’m not embarrassed. I’m just angry that you compared me to a _six year old girl_ ,” he mutters, refusing to make eye contact with anyone until he has his face under control. _Stupid face full of stupid blood._

“Sure, Kageyama. I believe you. I am believing you so hard right now, you have no idea.”

“A _six year old girl.”_

“Yes, thanks for reminding me of what happened five seconds ago.”

“Fucking hell. You are the worst.”

“The worst what?”

“…Everything.” Tanaka’s looking between them with amusement, having apparently recovered from his Moment of Irrepressible Adoration (or, as it is more commonly known, a Kiyoko Coma), and for the sake of all that is holy, _why_ can he not control his face?

“Aw, now you’re even redder!”

Kageyama is about to notch up his scowl to dangerous levels when Hinata suddenly stops dead, his stare locked on something over Kageyama’s shoulder, and _what the fuck_ , he thinks, _look at me when I’m intimidating you._

He flicks Hinata on his forehead to get his attention, but Hinata doesn’t respond. Then, quick as a flash, he’s suddenly next to him, his elbow getting far too friendly with his ribs. Kageyama yelps – a noise he will deny he made to his dying day – and moves to eviscerate him, but Hinata just looks pointedly behind Kageyama and back again, a panicked look in his eyes. Kageyama follows his gaze, and immediately forgets about Hinata’s evisceration; he’s much too worried about his _own._

Daichi, who has stopped his conversation with Suga, is making his way over to them. Kageyama barely has time to pray for a swift demise before he’s in front of them, an eyebrow raised in a way that can probably make grown men grovel for mercy at his feet. He just looks at them, making eye-contact with each of them for a long, harrowing moment, before walking away again. Kageyama gives himself a minute to restart his heart.

He isn’t sure whether that was better or worse than a lengthy lecture (featuring Suga’s disappointed face, which makes him want to go volunteer at a soup kitchen or something). Probably worse – at least he can still _breathe_ after a lecture. Warning clearly received, the three of them promptly get back to practising, trying to look as focused as possible. Tanaka’s knees wobble a bit as he walks over to Nishinoya, but he gives no other outward sign of distress. And since Kageyama’s sure he’s pulled at least eight muscles from tensing so hard, he envies him for that.

But, despite his apparent composure, Kageyama notices Tanaka lets out a little sigh of relief when Daichi turns back to Suga again. So apparently, prolonged exposure to Daichi’s annoyed face won’t make it less terrifying, but he _is_ going to learn how to hide his reactions to it better. Fantastic.

Things are a lot more subdued after that, after they’ve both calmed down enough to continue the spiking practise they were doing before. It’s no problem getting back into the swing of it, to keep going as if they hadn't stopped in the first place.

And thinking about that gets him started again, thinking about Hinata and volleyball and Hinata playing volleyball. Kageyama is resigned to it happening a lot, because his Hinata-related problems are only going to increase from now on - he’s not going to get a reprieve from it all any time soon. He has a feeling that no matter how long he spends puzzling through it in his head, trying to work it out, it’s not going to him any good. That doesn’t mean he can stop himself, though. 

It – them – is just as odd and unexplainable as it usually is, their bodies going through the motions almost before their brains catch on, like there’s something old, something elemental coursing through their veins and they’re only vessels for it.

Kageyama doesn’t know quite how to describe how everything just stops for a moment when they set up the quick, how everything is so sharp and clear and his thoughts quiet to a low buzz in his ears. Kageyama sets to Hinata like breathing, the ball meeting Hinata’s hand with a satisfying smack and slicing through the air as if nothing could ever stop it. It’s still a little jarring just how easy it is to sync up with his motions, how easily they bring out the best in each other.

He thinks about how effortlessly Hinata read him a moment ago, how he can distinguish between his varieties of scowls in seconds. He thinks about people in his life that can do that, and he could count them on one hand, easily. When exactly did they get to know each other so well? When exactly did Kageyama figure out when to goad Hinata out of one of his anxious episodes, and when to leave him alone? When did he realise precisely what to say to rile him up, to encourage him? When did he learn the difference between how Hinata smiles when he’s pretending and how he smiles when he’s genuinely happy?

He's got no clue as to when Hinata stopped being an annoyance and started being- what? He’s has no idea. All he knows is that when they work together, when their quick slams down on the other side of the court, it feels like a circuit closing, like something he’s been missing has fallen into place.                                  

And if the way that Hinata beams at him afterwards makes his stomach do weird things, well, no one has to know but him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, literally nothing is going to happen in this story. They're all just gonna hang out, have mushy feelings and be idiots about said mushy feelings. You have been warned. 
> 
> Next chapter: in which it's easier than hinata thought it would be


	6. in which it's easier than hinata thought it would be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is taking it seriously and Hinata takes a leaf out of his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So I actually managed to get this out on time! No one is more surprised by this than I am. Sorry it's a tad short in comparison to some of the others, though. But don't worry: I didn't force anything/rush to finish it - I got some genuine inspiration and took my time tweaking it, I promise! Thanks again for all your supportive and wonderful comments; you guys are lovely and sparkly and cool. Who knows, maybe I can keep to my original schedule after all. The awesome response I've been getting so far is definitely enough of an encouragement to write :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> ~zadd
> 
> P.S. Writing with the Haikyuu!! OST on in the background is brilliant because when the intense, dramatic music comes on and they’re just holding hands or bickering or something it is fucking hilarious.
> 
> EDIT: the LOVELY and TALENTED [vesloth](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/) made BEAUTIFUL [art](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/post/143718197254/from-zadderlees-amazing-fic-fake-it-make/) for this chapter (if you're reading this for the first time, it's probably a good idea to take a peak after you've finished) and there are nO WORDS TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT. PLEASE SHOWER HER WITH PRAISE BECAUSE SHE DESERVES NOTHING LESS

The next couple of days are spectacularly uneventful, and Hinata is on edge. He’s waiting for something, anything, to happen, and he’s prepared for it to be bad. Is expecting it, even. Because surely someone has something to say; someone always does. Not just about how it’s _Hinata_ and _Kageyama_ in a relationship, but about what their relationship represents.

If it were real, Hinata muses, it would be kind of romantic, in a sense; they’re showing the whole school that they apparently have dumb squishy feelings, and they don’t want to hide those dumb squishy feelings, regardless of what anyone might think. It could even be called brave. Well, it could be, if it meant anything at all. He wonders, then, if there are people who look at the two of them and see a future, see some kind of hope, maybe even defiance, in their linked fingers. He wonders if their supposed bravery is making anyone else want to be brave too. Then he promptly feels absolutely terrible – _oh god what have I done there are birds that regularly collide with plate glass doors that have made better choices than me_ – and shuts that line of thinking down entirely. The idea that other people might be looking to them as some sort of example is _terrifying._  

In any case, he thinks they’re long overdue some trouble. He envisioned, in that brief, intense moment of panic while looking up at the sky, wondering exactly what he’d just done, a much more difficult time ahead of them. That there would be more than some weird threat from Tsukishima to deal with. A lot more. He was afraid people would start treating them differently, start asking invasive questions he didn't know how to answer, that at least a few jerks would approach the two of them with words like knives, eager to tear them to shreds. 

And sometimes, he wishes they would, if only to get it over with. To him, the worst part is not what people will say, but waiting for it, the anticipation a slow-acting poison in his blood. He likes to know where he stands with people, how they really feel about him. Way back when Kageyama and him couldn’t say a sentence to each other without almost coming to blows, he reluctantly respected him for his honesty. He was blunt and pretty harsh – and still is, really – but that just makes any praise, any compliments or promises he makes, more significant. Because it’s more likely that he _means it._ He doesn’t know how to deal with people who are kind to his face but spit vitriol about him behind his back. He doesn’t particularly _want_ to deal with people like that.  

There are still whispers when they walk down the corridor, reluctantly holding hands, but so far, they've been left alone, given more room to get used to being public than most fledgling couples would. Hinata’s still stunned that no one just flat-out refused to believe it (apart from Tanaka and Nishinoya, who now make kissy noises whenever they walk by and sigh about how _they just grow up so fast_ ). But everyone seems to have accepted it, and if they haven’t, they’re keeping it to themselves.

All in all, it’s been far too easy to slip into the role of someone’s boyfriend, of – Jesus Christ – Kageyama’s boyfriend (he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that). He even manages to forget that they’re supposed to be dating a few times. Because nothing much has changed, except that Kageyama’s making an effort to be nice to him: perhaps letting him get away with something he’d never have led slide a week ago with nothing but a small frown of protest; perhaps getting two milk boxes from the vending machine and handing him the other one, the straw already in place.

That’s when Kageyama’s trying, when he’s taking the whole thing seriously in a way that weirds Hinata out a bit. But he forgets himself too, yelling at Hinata over some stupid little thing, or being far too quick to call him an idiot.

However, the team just smirks at them when that happens, when they launch into a ridiculous argument, as if it’s cute. As if they’re stood in front of each other blushing and rolling the toes of their shoes, chancing glances up when they think the other isn’t looking. Like they’re _flirting,_ like it’s some sort of sickening _couple thing._ But then Kageyama will visibly snap himself out of it, shaking his head as if clearing away a haze from his thoughts, then mutter an apology. And Hinata’s so unused to hearing Kageyama apologising, especially if it’s off the court, that he stammers one back. That only makes them all smirk harder, and Hinata resigns himself to the fact that he can’t win.

Then there are the times in the halls, when they’re walking together with too much space between them, that Kageyama grabs his hand, tilting his head in the direction of a group of girls approaching them, as if to say _you’re slacking off dumbass_ , and he’s jolted back into reality. Or rather, the bizarre alternate universe (complete with a Kageyama that _smiles at him - often._ Well, they’re tiny and closed-mouthed and look decidedly insincere if he studies them for long enough, but they’re still startling) that has become his reality.

He wonders why Kageyama feels so obligated to keep up the charade, and he thinks it’s something to do with the agreement they made, something to do with the way Kageyama never seems to half-ass anything but school-work. And he feels a little bad, because it’s basically his fault they’re in this situation anyway, and Kageyama’s putting on a better show than he is.

So Hinata starts trying a little harder too, because it’s only fair that they both make themselves look dumb. He comes and fits himself into Kageyama’s side when he’s having a conversation, enjoying the way he stiffens in shock and has to fight to keep his voice under control. He buys them both meat buns after practice for three days straight until Kageyama tells him to stop being an idiot and for them to at least _alternate_ when they pay for each other’s snacks (which is Kageyama for “I feel guilty about you paying all the time; do you think we could work out a system?”). He even invites Kageyama over to his house in front of everyone, completely tuning out the catcalls from Tanaka, and beams at him when he says yes. Because Hinata’s good at pretending too.

Except, when Kageyama blushes as Hinata’s mother fawns over him, when he splutters incoherently for about three minutes straight when Natsu attaches herself to Kageyama’s leg and refuses to let go, he feels a sort of warmth in his chest, and the smile tugging at his mouth is irrepressible and genuine. Because sometimes, it’s easy to forget that Kageyama is a complete goober who wants to be good with animals and children and is upset when they’re scared of him, that he tosses to Hinata pretty much whenever and for as long as he wants, despite the fact that the street lights came on a long, long time ago and the park is pretty creepy after dark.

It’s easy to forget, when Kageyama scowls so much, that he’s tried to smile – properly, with teeth – numerous times, only to be mocked by the team and Hinata himself (he resolves to never do that again, because who the hell is he to tell someone they can’t be happy?). And he’s reminded, when they’re in his room with his sister climbing all over them both, that Kageyama is doing this to save both of their asses, when he could have completely snubbed him as soon as those fateful words came out of Hinata’s mouth. He could have simply raised an eyebrow, asked what the fuck he was talking about, and Hinata would have had to change his name and move to Timbuktu.

It would have been so easy to throw him under the bus. But from the way Kageyama acted afterwards, the idea hadn't even crossed his mind. Instead, he secured his seat right next to Hinata on the runaway train that is this fake relationship, and Hinata is glad, in a small, quiet part of himself, that it’s Kageyama beside him. Because he’s become his best friend without him even noticing; the transitions from rivals to teammates to what they are now were seamless.

Kageyama makes it a little easier to walk the corridors when Hinata knows there are eyes tracking his movements. His presence makes Hinata's steps a little lighter, his smile a little less forced. He makes everything just a little more bearable: a warm, solid presence never more than a few steps behind.

There’s an effortlessness that’s crept into their interactions, and he tries to trace the source, but all he can come up with are countless afternoons with arms stinging from receives and the liquid, satisfied feeling of hard work that stays with him long after their paths diverge on the way home; the way Kageyama sometimes goes to pull his hair and changes his mind, resulting in an awkward head-pat instead; how occasionally, when Hinata can’t find the words to express what he means, Kageyama can finish his thought for him. They still compete and insult each other and are too stubborn to ever back down in an argument, but that’s just how they are. And none of that means that they don’t make a great team. None of that means that Kageyama isn’t incredibly important to him.

Which is why Kageyama is here, in Hinata’s house, if he’s honest: he likes having him around, though he’ll never say so out loud. He always feels like he needs some kind of reason to invite Kageyama over, like he wants to practise his serve some more, or he needs some help with his homework (and there are only so many times they can both sit staring blankly at their textbooks before they have to give it up as a lost cause). But now, he doesn't have to fabricate excuses, doesn't have to worry about it being weird to invite Kageyama over practically every day. For the next week or so, anyway; their situation has one thing going for it. 

His parents won't mind (“Have that nice boy over again soon, Shouyou!” was what his mother said after Kageyama’s first visit, his father nodding along, both of them smiling at their son like they were proud of his choice or something), and Natsu looks up at Kageyama with wide-eyed wonder whenever he’s over, so it’s not like she'll mind either. His only concern is whether Kageyama actually _wants_ to be here, or whether he’s just come because he thought he had to, thought he couldn't say no and keep up his end of the bargain. But the way Kageyama sits painfully still so Natsu can braid his hair, looking at his lap with a small, almost shy smile on his face – the kind he does when he thinks no one is looking – makes him stop worrying.

And when Hinata can’t help but tease him, saying that teeny purple hair clips suit him and _you should try wearing them to school tomorrow, Kageyama_ , he has to remind himself how that sort of thing is a little outside of their repertoire of taunts, and they don’t have an audience to pander to (except for Natsu, but she’s so absorbed in her task that she probably wouldn’t notice if the room was on fire, much less what either of them are saying). Hinata’s gotten so good at pretending lately that sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. So good, in fact, that sometimes he doesn’t feel like he’s pretending at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natsu is dandelion fluff and bubbles and fairy dust
> 
> Next chapter: lol lemme get back to you on that one
> 
> Right, hi guys. At the moment I've got loads of work to finish, so getting out a chapter for today (Sunday) won't be possible. I'm sorry, and I'll try to post an update as soon as I can. Thank you so much for your support and positive feedback; you guys are the reason I've kept this fic going for the past several weeks :) Seriously, thank you so, so much. Everything you do, be it bookmark, comment, leave kudos or even just read the fic, it is all very appreciated :)


	7. in which kageyama could not have expected this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There have been a few changes in Kageyama's life; some of these are more alarming than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys. Jesus Fucking Christ. 
> 
> I can tell you now: this has been the hardest chapter to write so far. And it's not even because of the content of this chapter - as you will see, it's the usual mushy idiots being idiots. It's just that this week has been pretty terrible; I lost count of how many tests I'd done around Thursday, and basically I've just been very busy and horrifically stressed. But it's over now, so thank fuck for that. 
> 
> Today has been the first proper chance I've had to write in ages, and after an hour or two of getting down stuff I wasn't happy with, I managed to write this, along with large chunks of the next few chapters. That should make updates a bit speedier. I'm sorry this chapter was so late, but hey, at least it's here now right? [sobs and picks up another piece of comfort chocolate] 
> 
> I want to thank everyone again for being so lovely on this journey so far (jfc I sound like a Hallmark card), and for giving my writing a chance in the first place. It means so much to me that people are taking the time to read what I write, and that a lot of you are kind enough to leave kudos, comments and add this fic to your bookmarks as well. You guys are the reason this chapter is up - I couldn't do it without you.
> 
> Well, now that I'm finished gushing, on with the chapter! I hope you like it :)
> 
> ~zadd
> 
> EDIT: MORE ART I REPEAT MORE [ART](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/post/143797118184/from-zadderlees-wonderful-fic-fake-it/) FROM THE WONDERFUL AND SHINY [VESLOTH](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/); honestly at this point I doubt I'll ever stop crying

A week is all it takes for them to settle into a sort of routine.

A lot of things stay the same in Kageyama’s life: he still gets up at an ungodly hour to get to practice most mornings; still stares blankly at the chalkboard for most of his lessons; still purchases enough milk boxes for him to consider admitting he has a problem. But there are a few changes too, and all of them are Hinata-related.  

The first alteration is lunchtime: they ate lunch together before their ‘agreement’ began, but it was never just them. A smattering of teammates could usually be found hanging around them, or at the very least there were other people to witness them getting into pointless arguments (usually ending with rice everywhere, including once – memorably – when some went up Kageyama’s nose). But now, since eating anywhere with people just invites stares, as if he’s going to start feeding Hinata like he’s a baby bird or something, he and Hinata have lunch outside instead, as far away from prying eyes as they can get.

After some searching, punctuated by Hinata pointing to his empty stomach and groaning, they’d – mostly Kageyama – managed to find a bench in a spot shady enough to be a little cold. That meant people would steer clear of it, in favour of soaking in as much sun as they could somewhere else, which was enough for Kageyama to plonk down and set up camp. And after a few days spending the entire break there, he concludes that he prefers it. The spot is so quiet, and neither one of them wants to destroy the one little pocket of tranquillity in their hectic days, so they spend lunchtime talking about neutral topics to avoid fighting, or just enjoying the company.

It’s a bit of a shock that Hinata is capable of going five minutes without speaking, or that he can actually converse like a normal human being, only occasionally resorting to using noises or weird gestures to get across his point. Hinata’s getting pretty good at teasing little smiles out of him, and Kageyama can’t bring himself to scowl to cover them up, for fear of disrupting whatever is going on between them, whatever is making it so easy to just _be_ around him lately. It’s the most peaceful time they spend together, and he finds himself looking forward to it, just a little.

Another change is that they also, more often than not, end up following the other home. Kageyama likes spending time with him outside of school – he seems a little softer, a little less brash. He’s less likely to start charging around, or say something idiotic without thinking, and he feels a little like a layer of Hinata has been peeled back. He feels strangely privileged, in that regard – to be allowed to see something that few others do.

It helps, too, that Hinata’s family are actually pretty great. He learned, over the dinner table, that Natsu would like to be a superhero when she grows up, because she thinks waiting for someone to save her is pretty dumb, really, when she could be out there saving people herself. (“And I’ll have cool powers, like reading people’s minds!” she said, before staring at him for two minutes straight and loudly declaring that he was thinking about ponies. Kageyama’s a little bit in love with her.)

Hinata’s mother – who insisted, smirking, that he call her Masuyo because “you practically live here, Kageyama-kun!” and it was pretty much the most awkward thing ever – told him that she was glad her son had made friends with such a nice, polite boy. Hinata mimed throwing up when he thought she wasn’t looking, but she turned her head sharply to catch him at it, raising an eyebrow as if to say _if you’re going to do it, at least do it right._  Kageyama hid his smile behind his fist.

And Hinata’s father – Hiroki, apparently, since Hinata’s parents’ main goal seemed to be embarrassing him for their own amusement – dealt the final blow of the night, saying that Kageyama was always welcome in their home and _for god’s sake, he wasn’t on the verge of tears, he'd just gotten some hospitality in his eye._ All in all, Kageyama has no idea why Hinata's such a loser – his family are far cooler than him.

His own parents also ended up adoring Hinata (which wasn’t a surprise, really, because he’s like sunshine and puppies and yadda yadda yadda), and he even managed to sweet-talk his mother into giving him extra dessert. The evening almost ended without incident, the baby pictures safely tucked up in a box and far, _far_ away from Hinata, but it turned out his mother had more than one sure-fire way to ruin his life. She got half-way through a sentence about how Kageyama hadn’t had a friend over since the first year of middle school, before he staged a coughing fit to cut her off.

It backfired, however, when she made him drink a whole glass of water, rubbing his back the whole time in a way that was supposed to be soothing, but made him want to melt into a puddle of mortification instead. The look Hinata gave him the entire time, eyes lit up and biting his lip like he was one _take it easy, Tobio_ away from losing it, made him a little bit homicidal. But, since no one started laughing at him in the hallways the day after, he figured Hinata had kept his mouth shut and would therefore let him live. 

Apart from that blip, it’s not as if he dislikes any of the changes, not really. It’s strange that as a by-product of fake-dating Hinata and spending far more time with him than usual, they’ve actually become better friends. After all, it’s difficult to get annoyed with someone when you’ve seen them laugh so hard that milk comes out of their nose (courtesy of Natsu insisting Kageyama be the patient while she was playing doctor), or when they pick a fight but can’t stop smiling for long enough to insult you back. It’s not been too bad, really. Not nearly as bad he thought it would be, at least.

But there is one adjustment to their dynamic that freaks Kageyama out. And that is the hand-holding.

When Hinata first suggested it to him as something they should do as a pretend couple, he didn’t really think about it. Hand-holding – so what, right? Wrong. Wrong on so many levels – a veritable skyscraper of wrong.

For one thing, he didn’t think about how frequently it would end up happening. Because now that they’ve established themselves as a couple that holds hands, suddenly not holding hands would be enough to get the school’s rumour mill going, and he does not want to overhear girls giggling about him ever again if he can help it. So they hold hands. A lot.

It got them a few stares from their friends at first, sure, since even those who thought they’d get together eventually – and that’s still _fucking weird_ to think about – didn’t think they’d be the type to hold hands. But now Kageyama is distressed that it’s become _normal_ for them to walk around with their hands linked, like it's supposed to be that way. It’s as if they’ve become some kind of package deal: _buy one Hinata and get a Kageyama free; Hinata and Kageyama, not sold separately._ And the worst part? Kageyama doesn’t really mind.

God, he tries to mind. He tries so fucking hard to convince himself that Hinata’s hand is too warm or too cold or too sweaty or too bony. But it’s not – it just _isn’t._ His hands are pretty small for a guy’s, almost delicate. But not quite – he can feel the underlying strength in Hinata’ grip, can see the hard work he’s put them through in the calluses on the ends of his fingers. It’s weird, he knows, but he _likes_ Hinata’s hands, likes how they feel sure and dependable.

His hands tell a story, an ever-evolving story of successes and failures, of learning and growth. The story of a kid who put his heart and soul into getting better at a game he loved - a game he still loves with a fire that gets Kageyama’s blood pumping too just watching him. Hinata has moved mountains with his hands, has done wonderful, impossible things and defied all expectations. They, like every part of him, should not be underestimated. And when someone does, when an opponent takes one look at all 162.8 cm of Hinata Shouyou and writes him off, well, Kageyama likes nothing more than helping Hinata _destroy them._ It’s oddly intimate to hold his hand, and he didn’t consider that something so benign, so innocent, could be.

He’s never held anyone’s hand before, and he wants to – it would be so _easy_ to – put the utter mess of thoughts and feelings he’s tangled in down to the newness of it. Because he could hold anyone else’s hand and it’d feel exactly the same, surely.

But what if it didn’t? What if no one else’s hand fit quite so well in his? What if no else’s hand-

He doesn’t like where that thought is going, doesn’t like any of the things happening to him at the moment – not that he's entirely sure what they are. He just feels odd in his own skin, like it doesn’t fit comfortably on his body. Even when he was in middle school, he never felt as unsure, as coltish and awkward and strange, as he does now. He's lost his balance, lost his composure, and he's not sure how to get it back, how to stop the world from shifting so precariously under his feet. 

Because the last thing he ever expected is that he’d _like_ holding Hinata’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [insert hmm-ing noises that indicate zadderlee has changed her mind on the content of the next chapter here]
> 
> Also: Happy Valentine's Day! [also known, for me at least, as In My Room Alone On The Internet Day]


	8. in which suga, tanaka and nishinoya should not be alone together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga is a romantic and Tanaka + Nishinoya + ideas = everyone's eventual doom, probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! This chapter is up on time, which fills my soul with satisfaction tbh. Thank you all for being so lovely and patient with me - I managed to write a slightly longer chapter because I was feeling much more relaxed this time around. And that's all down to you guys: you've made a really nice environment over in the comments, which is lovely to dip in and out of now and then, and I really appreciate it :)
> 
> I had a good time writing this chapter - Suga, Tanaka and Nishinoya are brilliant to write - and I hope you have a good time reading it ;)
> 
> ~zadderlee

It’s a pleasantly warm afternoon, and after being let out of his last class a little early and told to go on ahead by Daichi while he talks to their teacher, Suga is enjoying the walk to the club room. He feels lighter than air, pleased that he gets this moment alone to soak in his surroundings. And he isn’t disappointed: he notes the way the sunlight pushing through the leaves above dapples the path at his feet, the way the barest hint of a breeze makes them rustle like shy whispers, and his lips twitch up into a grin without his express permission. He’s rather happy to be alive, to be honest, twirling the key around his finger and just about managing not to whistle.

Although, he’s not entirely sure _why_ he feels so satisfied in the present moment. He wonders if it’s the weather, but no, that’s not quite enough to put him in such a good mood. Enough to make him smile in passing, perhaps – but not enough to make him worry he might burst into song any minute, like a something out of a cheesy jukebox musical. (Not that he’d know anything about _those._ Of course not.)

Maybe he could attribute it to the way his head is already half in the weekend. He has some homework he needs to do, but it won’t take him more than a few hours, which frees him up to do _nothing_ over Saturday and Sunday. Well, mostly nothing (nothing except practise, which has become so ingrained into his routine that it doesn't really count as an inconvenience anymore). While the idea of sleeping in until at least eleven on Sunday warms him right down to his toes, and Friday is a perfectly good reason to have a spring in your step, that’s not quite it either. He doesn’t feel like this every Friday, doesn’t often feel invincible this far from the court, this far away from the sound of his team’s gleeful shouts as they score a point.

 _Ah, his team._ Yes, that sounds about right.

Lately, the entire team has been a little louder, a little livelier than usual (which is saying something), in a way that was subtle enough to not be immediately noticeable. But he’s practically the embodiment of empathy – he has to turn off the TV when second-hand embarrassment gets too bad – and he picked up on it pretty quickly.  Everyone seems to be on top form, not just playing well, but really _having fun_ doing it, and it’s times like this that make him feel glad he picked up a volleyball what feels like aeons ago, glad he kept on picking it up until it felt right in his palms.

Volleyball is a team sport, after all, and _god,_ he doesn’t think he’ll be forgetting that any time soon. They’re still rough around the edges, still have their faults, but that ceases to matter when he sees the way Asahi’s shoulders look relaxed, the way Daichi’s smiles go soft and proud, the way Tanaka’s laugh seems to go on and on, bouncing off the walls.

It’s a wonderful sight to behold, to see Karasuno once more on the path to glory, and the feeling has evidently followed him out of the gym. He’s grateful to have a part in it, even if he’s not on the court himself. Of course he wants to be, would be out there in a heartbeat if Kageyama needed some time to piece himself back together, but it’s enough to wear the uniform, to _know_ these incredible people so well. This is truer now than ever before, and he thinks at least some of this persistent good feeling is down to Hinata and Kageyama.

Their oddball quick is always a sight to behold, enough to boost morale in any circumstance, but now there’s something sharper about it; as if they’ve managed to muster up even more energy from some unknown source to become something better and brighter. He’d worried for all of three minutes that their shiny-new relationship would cause complications or concentration issues, but then he saw the way they stood, united, with their fingers intertwined and realised he had nothing to worry about in the first place.

He knows his smile does the same thing as Daichi’s, knows it’s a little ridiculous to feel so damn _happy_ at the way the two of them have grown, together, into what they are now. They make each other stronger, in ways no one could have anticipated when the King of the Court defeated a plucky ‘commoner’ in a middle school tournament, and this seems to apply not just in a match. He thinks of all sorts of metaphors involving the sun and the rain and what they can do together, of combustion reactions and thunder and lightning, and can’t help but laugh. Because who’d have thought Hinata and Kageyama would actually get their shit together, let alone manage to have a functional relationship?

They’re just such a cliché, when it comes down to it: rivals turned friends turned boyfriends, brought back together after a rocky first meeting by fate, is practically the plot of a rom-com (he entertains titles such as _Spike Into My Heart_ and _Receive My Love_ before snorting). And yet, they bicker and tussle, kicking and screaming at each other and refusing to give an inch, which doesn't really fit the genre - it's about as romantic as wet bread. But there’s an easy affection between them, seen in a shared glance or a hand on a shoulder, that’s enough to make him near-speechless nonetheless.

They’re still dumb teenagers who haven’t got a clue, and who’s to say they won’t break up before next week? He doubts that, though. He doubts that very much. No one, least of all them, probably, knows what they’re going to do next, what they might be able to accomplish. But Suga can see them facing whatever it is side by side, and there’s a rightness to that image, to a grumpy setter and a hyperactive spiker up against the world.

 _Jeez, I’m such a romantic. How embarrassing._ He manages to shake away the sappy thoughts clouding his head, but can’t quite get rid of the smile.

What does freeze it on his face, however, is when he turns the corner to see Tanaka and Nishinoya waiting outside the club room.

“Hey Suga-san, you’re early too!” Nishinoya bellows down at him, leaning dangerously over the railing to wave. Tanaka goes one step further, _climbing up_ onto the railing and _sitting on it._

“Nishinoya Yuu and Tanaka Ryuunosuke, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?” he scolds, making his way up the stairs and trying to calm down his damn heart. _Dumb kids, both of them._

“Sorry mom!” Nishinoya replies, muttering something about _why’d he have to full-name me_ that just about gets lost amidst Tanaka cackling, but they both move away from the railing, so he counts it as a win.

The three of them being alone together does not bode well for the rest of the team, he knows, smirking when they both race inside as soon as he unlocks the door. The last time it had happened, there were discussions about a maid café fundraiser that almost became a reality, because god damn it if Nishinoya and Tanaka aren’t persuasive. Besides, he isn’t quite the altruist everyone thinks he is – the idea of seeing Daichi in a dress, cheeks pink with embarrassment, was quite compelling.

He knows this time won’t be any different, and it’s almost become a game: seeing how long he can look disapproving and vice-captainy before he bursts out laughing. He wonders idly if they can top their previous suggestion – that would be truly impressive.

“So I’ve been thinking, Suga-san,” Nishinoya begins as he tugs his shirt over his head, and there it is. Suga resigns himself to a lot of fake-sighing in the very near future while he pretends not to be entertained. “The other betting pool we started for when Shouyou and Kageyama would get together was pretty fun, and I think we should start another one! I’ll definitely win this time.” The last sentence is barely audible and Suga feels a cross between exhausted and fondly amused (which is essentially his default state by now); Nishinoya with a score to settle is a dangerous thing indeed.

“Oh really?” Suga is aware that anything he says will be taken as an encouragement, so he might as well sate his curiosity. “What would we be betting on? And I seriously hope you’re not going to say ‘how long it’ll be before they break up’, because that’s not very nice.”

Nishinoya sags – Suga got it in one, apparently. Oh dear. “Well it sounds that way when you put it like that.”

But Nishinoya’s got Tanaka thinking; he spends a moment theatrically stroking his chin – in nothing but a pair of pink boxers, he might add – before clapping, as if he has experienced a moment of true genius. “What about we start betting on when they reach different coupley milestones?”

“But aren’t we just living vicariously through them if we do that?” Suga muses.

“Duh – that’s the whole point, Suga-san. It would act as a celebration of the love our dear kouhai share-” Tanaka clutches his hands to his chest and sighs, and Suga has no idea whether he’s joking or not (knowing Tanaka, who Suga swears takes relationship advice from shoujo manga, he probably isn’t), “-and girls like it when guys have money, so that’s a plus.” Suga wants to groan, but ends up sniggering instead. _Damn it, lost already._ In spite of himself – and the various objections he has – he’s intrigued by the concept. The animal shelter could always do with more donations, after all, and it’s not like it’s malicious in any way.

“Ooooh, good idea Ryuu!” Nishinoya bounds over to high-five him, apparently not noticing that he’s only pulled his shorts up to his knees. Suga’s mouth curls into a fond smile.

“So what would the milestones be?” he asks - once Nishinoya and Tanaka are on board with the same idea, it’s pretty much a lost cause. And this idea is pretty tame by their standards; he’s learned to pick his battles.

“Hmm…I’m thinking the first time they kiss in public would be a good one.” Tanaka’s smirking deviously.

“And I’m thinking you’re too invested in their relationship,” Suga comments, full-out grinning now.

“As if you’re not, Suga-san! You and Daichi-san are always smiling over at them – you did it before they were even together!”

“Yeah, Suga-san, you’ve got to admit it,” Tanaka chimes in, and uh oh, it’s an ambush.

“All right, you’ve got me there. But I’m pretty sure most of the team feels like that.”

“I’m pretty sure half the girls in the _school_ feel like that. I’ve heard them talking in class and oh man, you think _we’re_ bad. I managed to talk to some of them, you know, saying something about how I always knew there was something between them. They ate it right up!” Tanaka _ooohs_ admiringly at him, and Nishinoya proudly accepts his enthusiastic back-pats, his smile not once faltering – even as the last one almost knocks him over.

“I’m happy for you, truly,” Suga says, wry. “But what else do you want to bet on, exactly?”

“I knew it, you are interested!” Nishinoya thinks for a moment, doing the same chin-stroking as Tanaka earlier – Suga wonders if they choreograph it beforehand. “Oh! Oh! How about the first time they go on a proper date?”

“That could be good, yeah. What else?” He’s definitely on board now – he has a feeling this is going to be _fun._

Nishinoya’s smile turns sly, and _oh, this really is going to be fun._ “How about the first time we catch them making out?”

“I’m starting to worry that voyeurism is going to be involved here.”

“Don’t worry, Suga-san. I have faith that they’ll get themselves into these situations on their own,” Nishinoya declares. “We’ll probably have a more difficult job _not_ stumbling onto something awkward.”

“Speaking of stumbling onto something,” a voice cuts in, making them jump a bit, and they all turn to see Daichi leaning on the door frame. “What is it that I’ve stumbled onto here?” Daichi asks, an eyebrow raised, which every member of the Karasuno volleyball team – and several other unfortunate souls who have found themselves on the receiving end of The Eyebrow – can tell you is bad news. But Suga can see his mouth twitching as if he’s actively fighting a smile (Suga can relate) and knows he’s not actually mad.

“Well, Daichi,” Suga drawls, a wicked smirk snapping into place. “I think a better question is: do you want to put money on Kageyama and Hinata eloping in three years, five years or ten years?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chrome tried to change 'zadderlee' to 'cheerleader' which is actually pretty accurate. Well done Chrome - you know how I feel about my volleyball goobs, don't you
> 
> I love Suga so much that I gave him his own chapter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Next chapter: in which zadderlee should probably stop doing chapter previews
> 
> [Edit: A lot of schools in Japan have half-days on Saturday, and while I've done as much research as a student can feasibly find time to do (for something that isn't school-work), for the sake of convenience, let's pretend Karasuno isn't one of them (✿◡‿ฺ◡)]


	9. in which yamaguchi worries and hinata's brain conspires against him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi is concerned about Tsukki and Hinata thinks for once (it isn't a good experience).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking hell. 
> 
> Hello everyone. This has been a long, long time coming, and I've basically done the one thing I didn't want to do. So, I'm sorry about that. It's just that, with my mocks approaching, and then the mocks happening, then exams looming on the horizon after that, it isn't just about finding the time to write, but finding the right frame of mind to write. That is what took the longest for me. 
> 
> What's also really annoying is that I've had the chapter after this one written for weeks, but for the longest time I just couldn't figure out how to go about writing the chapter to bridge the gap. But after much blood, sweat and tears, here it is. It was a labour of love, I'm telling you.
> 
> Now, I'm not exactly sure what my update schedule from here on out will be (after I post the chapter that's ready to go, that is). What I will say is I will try to get chapters posted as soon as I can, but I will not skimp on quality. In other words, I'll be posting chapters when they're at their best for you to read, because you guys deserve that. 
> 
> To those of you still supporting me: thank you so much. And to all you new folks that have just joined us: hello, it's a fucking mess over here, but hopefully a reasonably entertaining fucking mess. That's all I can hope for, really.
> 
> So that's my essay over with. I hope you enjoy the Yamaguchi that no one asked for, but I am nonetheless happy to provide. 
> 
> I love you all,  
> ~zadd

One of the things Yamaguchi is good at is noticing things others don’t. Much of his life has been spent observing, watching on the sidelines while others speed by him in streaks of colour. But he’s not resentful that his time in the sun comes so infrequently – it’s allowed him to learn some things about life, about people. And such skills are essential to coexisting with one Tsukishima Kei.

His daily interactions with Tsukki are an exercise in code-breaking – he gives so many unspoken cues, most of them subtle enough to be overlooked. By anyone else, that is. Anyone else but Yamaguchi, who ever since elementary school has made a habit of following Tsukki’s breadcrumb trails. It’s become almost an ingrained behaviour to glance out of the corner of his eye now and then, waiting for a sign.

The little things always end up being the most important: if Tsukki tells him to shut up, he’s not annoyed, but either a) is trying to appear so or b) is actually embarrassed and wants Yamaguchi to stop fretting over/complimenting him already; if Tsukki sends him a pointed look over the top of his glasses, it means he’s found whatever Yamaguchi just said funny; if Tsukki has his music turned up so loud Yamaguchi can hear the lyrics, he knows to leave him alone.

He thinks that’s why people think Tsukki is emotionless or cold – they have no idea how to read him. They have no idea that he’s as expressive as it gets, but only if you take the time to notice. Through effort, practise and more than a few mistakes, he’s learned the topography of him. He knows the way his brows furrow when he concentrates, knows the way his mouth pinches when he’s irritated, knows the way his eyes light up when he’s pleased. He also knows what a big deal it is that he’s been allowed to learn all those things.

Tsukki doesn’t let a lot of people close. He’s afraid of a lot of things he’d never admit to, and one of those is being let down again, of thinking the world of someone and finding out they’re only human after all.  He’s also not good with people - he's always been better at pushing people away than holding on to them. Which makes Yamaguchi feel all the more honoured that Tsukki chooses to spend time with him, has refrained from keeping him at the same distance he keeps everyone else.

Yamaguchi knows Tsukki, knows the small, scared boy behind his indifferent exterior. He could disassemble him and fit him back together again, piece by piece.

He heard somewhere that love is giving someone the power to hurt you and trusting that they won’t, and he thinks that’s apt. Because Tsukki could effortlessly crush him and his feelings under his heel; he’s good at that, so painfully good, when he wants to be. He could leave him behind, find someone else who would look at him with naked wonder, the way they tell you not to look at a solar eclipse.

He could have left him there that day, flat on his ass and looking up, eyes clouded with tears, at faces he still hasn’t forgotten – sharks who had caught the scent of blood. But he stopped. And in typical half-assed Tsukki fashion, he saved him. Yamaguchi thinks he’s been saving him ever since.

Not that he’d ever say such a thing out loud, of course. He’s happy with the way they are, with the closeness they already have. Over years spent at his side, Tsukki doesn’t have to say anything at all for Yamaguchi to know what he means. By just paying attention, he knows when to stay away. But he also knows when it’s okay to move closer. Just that, just spending time with him, is more than enough.

That doesn’t stop him from being hyper-aware of Tsukki, however, of paying far closer attention to him than any normal friend would. _But Tsukki isn’t exactly normal,_ he rationalises, _so why should I try and be?_

He notices straight away when there are any changes to Tsukki’s mood, and usually asks him about it or, depending on the signs, leaves him to it. When Tsukki gets into one of his funks, it usually takes him a couple of days to get whatever it is out of his system, and in the meantime Yamaguchi does what he can to make things easier for him. He gives Tsukki some space to think, shielding him from their nosiest classmates as much as possible, and sneaks something strawberry flavoured into his desk when he’s not looking. That sort of thing earns him a nod, and a if-you-blink-you’ll-miss-it little smile that’s like the sun rising. It’s hard, seeing Tsukki like that, but it turns out okay.

This time, it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before. Tsukki’s not down, exactly, or angry. He’s just _off._ And something tells Yamaguchi to keep quiet about it, to just keep an eye on him for a bit and see what he’s up to.

For the past week, he’s been a little more reserved than usual. Tsukki doesn’t usually seek out people to torment (that would be too much effort), but if someone irritates him, he won’t keep quiet about it. It could be described as opportunistic: with Kageyama and Hinata, for instance, he never misses an opening to say something snide.

There are three types of people who aren't exposed to Tsukki’s jabs: upperclassmen (though there are some notable exceptions), people whom he has deemed acceptable company (the list isn’t very long) and people who fly so far under his radar that they’re practically underwater. Everyone else is fair game.

But recently, he’s been surprisingly quiet, often not taking advantage of his vast store of insults (Yamaguchi likes to imagine a colour-coded mental filing system, organised from clever quips to elementary school taunts) even when the perfect moment presents itself. He hasn’t made any height jokes accidentally-on-purpose in Hinata’s hearing range for days, and that’s really gotten Yamaguchi taking notice.  

The other day, he caught Tsukki staring at Hinata and Kageyama – who were yelling and trying to gesture angrily at each other, apparently not noticing they were still holding hands, which hindered their efforts substantially – with a considering look on his face. At the time, Yamaguchi had thought nothing of what Tsukki said in the club room when they first found out the two were dating. After all, it’s obvious how utterly gone on each other the oddball duo are. He passed it off as something to rattle them, or perhaps the set-up for some prank, but now, he’s wondering whether it was something else altogether.

Yamaguchi is good at noticing things others don’t, but he’s getting the feeling that he’s missing something obvious. He knows something has to be coming, but for the first time in a long time, he’s not sure what Tsukki has planned.

 

.-.

 

It’s the time of night when everything feels just a little bit hazy: a little before midnight, when it’s as if nothing but Hinata and his dark bedroom exist. He’s exhausted, feeling practically more liquid than solid – a puddle of teenage boy. But it’s in a pleasant sort of way; the type of exhaustion that comes from hard work, from doing things he enjoys. He’s had a long, tiring day, he’s comfortably cocooned in blankets and the sound of rain tapping gentle fingers against the window has him on the verge of drifting off.

But he can’t quite manage to fall asleep, mainly because he can’t shut his brain up.

During practice, there had been a moment just before he spiked a toss where it felt like he was soaring, to somewhere beyond the second gymnasium. To somewhere bigger, brighter. He could almost hear the crowd roaring in his ears, feel the blinding lights pushing against his closed eyelids as if inviting him to open them, to see a whole future unfurling beneath him. Then the ball hit his palm, and god, there aren’t any words for that.

When his feet touched the floor again, incoherent sounds of joy tumbling from his lips, he saw something in Kageyama’s expression that told him they were on the same page. And that’s where the problem started.

Because in that incandescent moment, feeling like he could the pluck stars out of the sky with his own two hands, his chest filled with something warm and silken, twining itself around his ribs and making a home there. He looked at the pleased, goofy set of Kageyama’s mouth, and wondered what it would be like to take a step closer, and another, and another. He wondered what it would be like for Kageyama to reach out and wrap his arms around him, pulling him in until not an inch of space remained between them. He wondered what it would be like to have that awkward-looking smile pressed into his hair.

And when he realised _what_ exactly he’d just thought, he jerked back, tripped over his own feet and got well acquainted with the floor. _Again._

Hinata had insisted he was fine, but the way he'd wobbled when he tried to stand up had Suga taking him off the court immediately. He'd had to put up with the third year cooing at him, conjuring up a cold compress from god knows where and insisting he ice what would undoubtedly be a bruise on his forehead. Daichi frowned at him in a way that was both paternal and petrifying, and he’d had to sit out for the rest of the practice under Coach Ukai’s strict supervision.

It wasn’t even that bad – for someone who still gets hit in the face with volleyballs on a pretty regular basis, it didn’t even make the top ten. But it wasn’t as if he was any match against the combined concern of the whole team, so he endured this torture for just under a half hour (in passive-aggressive silence).

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Kageyama insisted on seeing him all the way home after practice was over. On any other day, he’d be glad of the company, but right then, he didn’t trust himself to say anything without going bright red and sounding half-strangled; he'd had to listen to Kageyama grumble at him for being an idiot who couldn’t keep himself upright for _five minutes at a time, for fuck’s sake_ for the entire journey, without even being able to defend himself.

(And no, he absolutely wasn’t touched by Kageyama’s ham-fisted attempts at showing his concern. Not even a tiny little bit.)

His head is fine – all he has to show for the whole fiasco is a purplish mark that can’t even be seen under his hair. It hurts like hell if he pokes it (he paid dearly for his curiosity), but it is nowhere near as distracting as trying to decipher what the _hell_ is happening to him.

Is he ill? Is he dying? Does he have some kind of rare tropical disease that causes him to want mushy physical contact from _Kageyama_ of all people? Urgh, _physical contact._ It sounds perfectly gross to him now (as it should, since it’s _Kageyama_ , after all), so why, for a moment, had he wanted to-

_No_ , he hadn’t _wanted_ anything. Of course not, because that would be really… _weird._ And, if by some minute, minuscule chance, he _had_ wanted to, then it could definitely be explained by weird volleyball-induced hormones or something. Right? Right.

Because they do make a fantastic team. They work so well together, the oddball quick – _their_ oddball quick - breaking down any wall in front of them. It’d be easy to get overwhelmed by the endorphins or whatever – it was normal, to get carried away by it all. Especially now, when they have to be a lot more touchy-feely with each other. It must be that. It’s normal to enjoy holding Kageyama’s hand, to feel grounded by the feeling of Kageyama so close to him. It’s normal to enjoy it when he walks Hinata home, or when he comes over to do nothing in particular. It’s normal to want to be close to him, to spend time with him. All the time. _Jeez._

He must have a concussion – that would explain everything. He must have completely rattled his brain, but it'll be all right. Soon, tomorrow even, all of these troubling thoughts will disappear and he'll be back to normal. Of course, that weird feeling in his chest had started before he hit his head, but-

But nothing. It’s not like he _likes_ Kageyama. Not like that. Hinata’s just a pretty affectionate guy, so what’s so wrong about wondering – _just_ wondering – what a hug from Kageyama would be like? It’s just curiosity, just another intangible thing to wonder about, right up there with what it’d be like if he was two meters tall, or if he was part lizard (think about it - _he could receive with his tail_ ). It's just a side effect of being attached at the hip for too long, of having so many expectations placed on them - on the way they should behave as a couple. Although, dating - _fake-dating -_ Kageyama has been different to how he thought it would be. It hasn't been so bad.  _He_ hasn't been so bad.

But if today has taught him anything, it's that they should give it a week or so more, then call it quits while they're ahead; it's all clearly messing with his head.  _It won't be long,_ he thinks, pulling his blankets up under his chin, _before this whole thing will be over_. They’ll stage a break-up, deal with the fall-out, then everything will return to the way it was. To the way it should be.

He wonders, briefly, how they'll do it, how they'll manage to convince everyone that their seemingly promising spark has burnt out. He'll need some time to think it through, to ask Kageyama what he thinks. It'll probably be difficult to accomplish - this entire ordeal has really stretched his meagre acting abilities to their limit. But it won't just be him doing it. Kageyama, with his dedication to whatever he sets his mind to (and his seriousness about putting on a show - for Hinata's sake as well as his own - and his attempts at being considerate and his strong arms and his warm hands and  _god shut up brain, shut up_ ), will be right there with him. They'll work at it, and it'll probably be really, _really_ awkward, but they'll be able to do it - they've managed to get this far. And eventually, it’ll be like the past few weeks were a strange dream.

Wait. 

The past few weeks.  _The past few weeks?_

**_So we’ll do this for a couple of weeks, then we ‘break up’ and go back to being friends._**

Didn’t he say that? Isn’t that what he said? Because it’s been two weeks. It’s already been two weeks.  _Shit._ _  
_

He sits bolt upright in bed, an awful thought reverberating in his mind, and reaches for his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: in which you don't wake up kageyama if you want to live


	10. in which you don't wake up kageyama if you want to live

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama regrets ever having a phone in the first place and Hinata uses irritating emoticons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This was burning a hole in my drafts, so here is the last chapter I have finished, as promised. After this? Who knows. Hopefully I'll be able to post the next chapter this weekend, but I honestly have no idea. Stay tuned, I suppose?
> 
> Also, this was hell to format, so you're welcome. And if the placement is still a little weird: trust me, I know. Blame AO3 (no don't they're lovely).
> 
> Thanks for the lovely response to the last chapter - it's nice to know so many of you are sticking around for the long haul, and that there are also new people clicking on this fic. Hello newcomers and binge-readers alike! Please take a seat anywhere you want. No, not there. Not there either. Honestly, what am I going to do with you?
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to comment. I promise I don't bite (nor do I usually sound like someone's creepy uncle - that was a one-time thing, I swear). 
> 
> I love you all,  
> zadd

The only thing Kageyama would say he loves as much as volleyball is sleep. His bedroom – aside from the court – is his favourite place to be, because his bedroom has his bed, and honestly, if there was a way to play without getting up, he’d never leave it. Kageyama is a morning person as much as he’s a duck-billed platypus (i.e. he isn’t).

Someone wants to get him to do something? They probably could, if they complained about it long enough. Someone wants him to do something just after they’ve woken him up? Unless they have a death wish and are looking forward to seeing what the afterlife entails, it probably won’t end well for them. It is common knowledge that if you want to survive into adulthood, you don’t wake up Kageyama Tobio.

So, naturally, he’s utterly furious when a strange buzzing noise wrenches him into wakefulness. His room is still dark, and a peek at the clock tells him he’s only been asleep for an hour or so before being woken up again. He’s tired, he’s irritated, and to top it all off, he _cannot_ figure out what is making that unholy noise.

It stops, then starts again, stops and starts again, and Kageyama briefly worries that he’s going deaf or something. (Is hearing weird noises even a sign that you’re going deaf? Perhaps it’s a sign of impending madness instead? Should he get locked up? Can you play volleyball in mental institutions?) It takes him an embarrassingly long time to figure out that the sound is coming from his phone, but in his defence, he’s more than half asleep, and only about five people have his number (two of which are his parents). It’s safe to say that he doesn’t get many texts.

Well, he _used_ to not get many texts. Now, however – after getting blinded by the screen – his phone is telling him he has eleven, and Kageyama’s pretty sure he’s never received that many at once in his _life. Oh fuck_ , he thinks, _I hope no one’s died._

When he sees that they’re all from Hinata, however, he goes from worried to irritated in five seconds flat.

Months ago, the little shit had tricked Kageyama into giving him his phone, sent a quick message to himself, and, beaming evilly (Kageyama has no idea how he managed it, but he did), handed his phone back. But the damage had already been done. From then onward, he’d send him intermittent gibberish about bunnies or gummy candy at _three in the morning_ ; Kageyama’s replies mostly consisted of swear words and exclamation marks.

And it wasn’t just the fact that he’d wake him up with them either: Hinata’s texts were _really fucking annoying_ to read _._ It was as if he tried to make them as frustrating as possible, peppering them with terrible grammar and obnoxious emoticons. Once, he sent him about seven pictures of the same angry-looking rabbit from different angles, with the justification that it reminded him of Kageyama. (In the morning, he’d glared at Hinata until he ran and hid behind Suga.)

He thought he’d discouraged Hinata by his complete and utter lack of response for an entire week – it’s been blissfully quiet for a while now – but evidently, it didn’t work.

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:34]_ **
> 
> _kageyama, r u awake???_

 

 _I am now, asshole,_ he thinks.

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:35]_ **
> 
> _kageyama?_
> 
>  
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:36]_ **
> 
> _kageyama??_
> 
>  
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:36]_ **
> 
> _kageyama?? _?__
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:37]_ **
> 
> _urgh u loser i bet ur bed time is at 8 <(_ _￣_ _︶_ _￣) >_

That is honestly the most irritating emoticon he’s ever seen in his life – it makes him angry just looking at it.

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:37]_ **
> 
> _kageyama_
> 
>   
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:37]_ **
> 
> _kageyama_
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:38]_ **
> 
> _seriously this is imprtnt_

Somebody _better_ have died to illicit this sort of reaction.

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:38]_ **
> 
> _kageyama (҂_ _⌣̀__ _⌣́)_
> 
>  
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:39]_ **
> 
> _ur the wrst kageyama wake up_

 

Kageyama can’t remember the last time he was so annoyed by something he read (the last time was probably from something assigned in Literature class, come to think of it – why do people write books when they have nothing interesting to say?). Kageyama knows he should just turn off his phone and try and get back to sleep. He’s going to have to get up in less than seven hours, and he isn’t even asleep yet – a Kageyama without eight hours of sleep is a dangerous Kageyama indeed.

But then he reads the last text Hinata sent. The last one, because Hinata knows that the best way to get him to do anything is to goad him, is just annoying enough that he has to reply. _God damn it._ For such an idiot, he really is good at getting to him.

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:43]_ **
> 
> _kageyama, y do you even have a phone if u dont answer txts???_ _ᕙ(_ _⇀_ _‸↼‶)_ _ᕗ_

 

 

> **_You [11:48]_ **
> 
> _I don’t answer yours because they’re annoying_

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:49]_ **
> 
> _but ur replying now_ ヘ(^o^ヘ)

 

He hates that he pointed that out because, really, he has no excuse, except perhaps that he’s a masochist.

 

 

> **_You [11:51]_ **
> 
> _Did you want to tell me something or not because if you don’t stop those emoticons I’m going to throw my phone out the window_

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:51]_ **
> 
> _okay spoilsport. i do hve 2 tell u smthng_

He really _is_ good at getting to him, because in spite of every cell in his body protesting, telling him to go the fuck to bed already, he wants to know what would have Hinata so frantic to talk to him. He hasn’t even mentioned candy or overly-expressive animals yet, so it has to be something serious.

 

> **_You [11:52]_ **
> 
> _Spit it out_

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:53]_ **
> 
> _alrght, jeez_
> 
>  
> 
> **_Dumbass [11:53]_ **
> 
> _its been 2 wks_

 

 

>   ** _You [11:55]_**
> 
> _What the hell are you talking about?_

 

 

> **_Dumbass [11:55]_ **
> 
> _2 wks since, u kno, our ‘relationship’ strted_

 

He takes a long moment to despair at Hinata’s ridiculous text-speak (how is he even deciding which words to shorten anyway?), before typing out another curt reply.

 

 

> **_You [00:01]_ **
> 
> _What’s your point?_

 

 

> **_Dumbass [00:02]_ **
> 
> _well didnt we say wed ‘break up’ smtime after 2 wks??_

Kageyama takes a deep breath in, then releases it slowly.

 

 

> **_You [00:04]_ **
> 
> _I think so, I don’t know. For fuck’s sake Hinata, did tripping over your own feet earlier smush your brain? What are you getting at?_

 

 

>   ** _Dumbass [00:04]_**
> 
> _I tld u, im fine u asshole_
> 
> **_Dumbass [00:04]_ **
> 
> _I just_
> 
> **_Dumbass [00:05]_ **
> 
> _I dnt thnk we shuld break up. Not yet_

 

He doesn’t even think about it, but before he knows it he’s holding his phone up to his ear, waiting for Hinata to pick up.  

“Kageyama?”

“Who else?” Kageyama absolutely does _not_ screech, and Hinata shushes him.

“Hey, don’t wake up your parents, idiot!” he whisper-shouts.

“You’re the one that’s being noisy, so don’t _you_ tell _me_ I need to be quiet. And isn’t your sister’s room right next to yours?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m whispering!” Kageyama’s pretty sure his ‘whisper’ is about as loud – if not louder – than his normal voice, but if Hinata wants to evoke the wrath of Natsu, that’s his problem.

“Tch, never mind, just-” Words fail him – he doesn’t think there are any good enough to get across what he wants to say anyway. So he goes with exactly what he’s thinking: “What the hell?”

“You read it, I’m not saying it again!” Hinata sounds embarrassed, but that doesn’t help the inferno that is Kageyama’s face at the moment – nothing short of sticking it in the freezer could do anything for that.

“What does that even _mean_?” Kageyama’s heart is pounding in his chest, which has to be something to do with the shock, not because Hinata sounds like he’s-

“Jeez, calm down, asshat. This isn’t me confessing my undying love for you or whatever.” Kageyama breathes out in a rush. “What I was going to say – before you started screaming at me, that is – was that I don’t think it’s the best idea to break up for at least another couple of weeks.”

“What? Why not?”

There’s a long pause, and Kageyama wonders whether the call has disconnected, but then he hears a soft exhale and the rustling of Hinata’s sheets as he shifts. “Gosh, why did you have to call me? This would have been so much easier to write out.” Kageyama thinks about reading a substantial text from Hinata, about having to discern actual meaning from it, and shudders. He’d need a translator – and possibly someone acting it out as a skit – for that.

“Try,” is all he says, and it comes out as barely a murmur; it sounds too soft, too warm to have come from his mouth. It must be something to do with the lateness of the hour, something to do with the way Hinata’s about thirty minutes away from him, but it feels like he could turn his head and see him right there, next to him. It’s strange that he feels more vulnerable now than he has during most conversations they’ve had, and he can’t even see Hinata’s face.

“Well, with everyone thinking that we’re really…you know…about each other, it’d be weird if we broke up so soon, right?”

Kageyama doesn’t know how to process any of this. “Well- But-” he tries, but the rest of the sentences he’s trying to start elude him. He’s rarely struck with the right thing to say in any situation, but right now, he can’t think of anything, never mind something remotely intelligent.

“Okay, look. I know this isn’t what we planned _at all_ , but I’ve just been thinking-” Kageyama cuts him off with a snort. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just don’t strain yourself.” There – snark is veering back into comfortable territory for him. It feels like he’s on the edge of something, an uncertain blackness yawning around him, and he’s just about clinging on. How is it that Hinata can make him feel comfortable and unsteady all at once?

“Oh shut up, as if you have any room to talk, Mr Four-Is-A-Prime-Number!”

“I did _not_ say that.” That is lies and slander. Probably.

“You d- Urgh, stop getting me off topic! I’m just saying, I’ve been thinking about how people have reacted to this whole thing. What do you think the team would say if we broke up?”

“That they aren't surprised we didn’t make it very long?”

“C’mon, these people bet that we’d become a couple. Do you really believe that?”

He pauses for moment. “No,” Kageyama mumbles begrudgingly.

“What with that and the pretty good act we’ve put on, we can’t go with what we said we’d do. I mean, what reason would we even give for breaking up?” That stumps him. Hinata sighs, the sound crackly in his ear. “Look, when this whole thing started, I didn’t think for a second that anyone would _expect_ this to happen. I thought no one would be immediately convinced we had… _feelings_ for each other, but, as you know, that’s not how it went.”

Kageyama knows – he feels guilty every time he remembers Suga’s face when he said he was happy for them. He looked proud, almost, like he thought they’d made the right choice. “So…what then? Why do you think we can’t break up because of that?”

“It’s not that I don’t think we _can_ break up. I’m just pretty sure everyone thinks we’ve been having some epic secret romance for ages – seriously, I overheard Suga use the phrase ‘star-crossed’ the other day – and I have no idea how we could convince them otherwise without it sounding really weird. With the way everyone’s been _smiling_ at us lately, I don’t think we can get away with a casual split. Not right out of the blue, anyway.”

“Meaning?” Hinata’s talking him in circles, and if he thinks Kageyama hasn’t noticed, he’s a bigger dumbass than Kageyama thought.

“Meaning,” Hinata starts, his voice sounding almost strained, “if we broke up without any warning, it’d have to be pretty messy. And messy means we’d have to pretend to be awkward around each other. Messy means avoiding each other. Messy means-”

“-volleyball suffering for it.” Kageyama finishes.

“Right.” _Oh fuck._

“We couldn’t just break up and go back to how we were before, could we? We’d have to keep pretending even after our supposed relationship ended.”

“Right.”

“What the hell are we going to do?” He realises his free hand is clutching his blanket tightly, and he lets go, shaking feeling back into his stiff fingers. He feels like he’s asking that question a lot lately, and he doesn’t like that he has so few answers anymore. Even the answers he has aren’t concrete, don’t guarantee that everything will turn out okay. But he’s glad, at least, that he has someone to ask that question to; that someone is there on the other end of the line, trying to make things better.

“I think, for the second time during this whole fiasco, we don’t have much of a choice here.”

“And I think that it’s really fucking annoying when you’re right.” Hinata huffs out a laugh at that, and some of the tension shrouding them melts away.

“You know, people haven’t reacted nearly as badly as I thought they might.”

“Yeah, I know. Apart from the staring, people have pretty much left us alone.” Kageyama’s still half-expecting a disaster, but he’s starting to think one might not happen after all.

“It won’t be the absolute worst thing I’ve ever had to do, to pretend for just a little longer. After all, all that’s actually different is that we hang out more.” Hinata’s voice comes out a little strange, but Kageyama’s too distracted by thoughts on just how _wrong_ that sentence is (hand-holding comes to mind) to notice; he can feel his face heating. He doesn’t say anything – he _can’t_ say anything. “So, we should keep it going then?” Hinata asks, when he gathers that he isn’t going to get a response.

“Like you said, we don’t have much choice.”

“Is that a yes or a no, Kageyama? Use your words.” He can hear the smile in Hinata’s voice, and he’s helpless against the urge to return it. Hinata can’t see him, anyway, so to hell with it.  

“Yes, asshole, we should keep it going.”

“All right, so it’s decided. And maybe we should start acting as though we’re having relationship issues or something, so the _we’re better as friends_ excuse makes more sense?”

“Yeah, that’s not an entirely stupid idea.” It’s a pretty good one, actually, but Kageyama’s not going to tell him that. Hinata squawks in indignation, and Kageyama smirks, imagining the no-doubt ridiculous face he’s pulling.

“Hey, I’m the one coming up with the ideas here!"

“And god help us both.” Hinata splutters, and Kageyama has to bite his lip against the laugh that threatens to come spilling out. _Urgh, stupid Hinata._ Hinata mutters something about hanging up on him if he doesn’t shut up, which reminds him of how late it is, and the fact that he has to get up entirely too soon.

“You should, it’s butthole o’clock in the morning.”

“You’re the one that called me!”

“And _you_ texted _me_ first.” Hinata’s silent for a moment.

“Yeah, all right. I’ll give you that. Good night, Kageyama.” Hinata yawns around his name, and Kageyama pushes words like 'cute' out of his head _immediately._ Fuck, he’s more tired than he thought.

“Good night, Hinata.” There’s a soft beep as the call disconnects, and Kageyama sets his phone down next to his alarm clock with a sigh, already dreading getting up. And yet, there’s a warm, pleased feeling in his stomach that won’t go away. He tries to convince himself he doesn’t know the cause of it, but he doesn’t quite manage.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: in which zadderlee cries over her (lack of) revision notes and maybe writes something Haikyuu!!-related


	11. in which hinata wakes up late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata is probably late for practice and his mother is definitely on to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK WHO'S BACK FROM THE DEAD. Bloody hell this chapter has been hard to write. What with my first exam being just over a week away (holy shit, my first exam is just over a week away), I've been too exhausted (mentally that is - getting out of bed is a feat for me) to even think about writing, never mind actually writing something /good/. But alas, after much typing and aggressive back-spacing, here is the new chapter. 
> 
> I'd like to thank (other than the Academy) all of the people who've clicked onto this fic. I hope you're all enjoying what you're reading, and that you will continue to do so - this is all for you guys, after all. I love hearing what you have to say, so please feel free to leave a comment. Seriously, I adore comments. A mere ':)' makes my day. 
> 
> Again, I have no idea when the next update will be, so stay tuned, and in the meantime, come talk to me over on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/) about these - and other - idiots. I am full of feelings. So many feelings. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> I love you guys,  
> zadd

“Are you up yet Shouyou? You’re going to be late for practice at this rate!” Hinata’s eyes snap open, and in the midst of a fast-growing haze of panic, he reaches out a hand to grope blindly for his alarm clock, not wanting to check the time but knowing he has to. _It can’t be as bad as he thinks it is, surely. His mom is just overreacting; everything is fine and Daichi won’t mount his head in the club room to serve as a warning to others. Everything is fine._

After the demonic device manages to evade his grasp at least three times, he finally grabs hold of it and takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He blinks at the numbers for a moment, waiting for his brain to catch up with his eyes; the second it does is marked with an inarticulate screech, followed by some aborted movements to get out of bed. _Worse – it is definitely worse than he thought._

His flailing has him teetering dangerously on the edge of the mattress for a moment – he contemplates falling off and not getting up, possibly ever – before he remembers how to work his limbs properly and rolls into the centre with a groan that's muffled by his pillow.

This doesn’t usually happen. Well, at least on the mornings he has practice it doesn’t – he’s willing to put up with a lot worse than getting up early to play volleyball. Even though his alarm was obviously forged in the fiery pits of hell itself (there’s no other explanation for it waking him up every morning with what sounds like a fox's mating call), it keeps him on time and spares him from Daichi’s wrath. (He fondly remembers the times when his head was attached to the rest of his body, for those times shall be no more.) And yet, here he is now.

He shifts from his position of half-suffocating himself, turning over to see his mother standing in the doorway, casting a fearsome (even at 5’3) silhouette. With her hands placed firmly on her hips and an eyebrow cocked like a loaded gun, she looks ready and willing to take down him, oppression and possibly a bear (in that order). He groans again, and sits up – he feels a little like he’s dying, but if he doesn’t get his shit together, his mother might actually kill him.

“Why didn’t your alarm clock wake you?”

He thinks about what happened last night, and amongst avoiding introspection like the plague, yelling at Kageyama and being yelled at _by_ Kageyama, he cannot for the life of him remember setting his alarm. _Of course. Naturally, this is Kageyama’s fault._ “I think I forgot to set it last night,” he mumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“That’s unlike you, Shouyou,” she says, in what he privately refers to as her _I’m on to you and your doom is imminent_ tone. True to form, just as he finally manages to stand up, stretching his arms high above his head, her eyes fix on him like a hawk’s. “Were you up late last night?” _Shit._ Hinata Masuyo truly missed her calling as some sort of superhero ( _pay attention to mom, Natsu, if you really want to follow that career path_ , he thinks).

“Not at all!” God damn it; he needs to do better than that to fool her. A _lot_ better.

“No?”

“…No?”

“Come on Shouyou – I don’t think _you_ are even certain you believe you.” Both of her eyebrows are raised now, and she’s smirking, as if his verbal incompetency is highly amusing to her (which, because his mother is a cruel, cruel woman, it probably is).

“I mean,” he starts, scrambling to pull the rest of that sentence out from somewhere, but not succeeding; it appears to be hiding from him, and it’s picked a hell of a good spot.

“Is this going anywhere any time soon, dear? Because I don’t have all day, and neither do you,” she reminds him, and Hinata takes a moment to curse that whatever gene that allows his mother (and his father, and his _six year old sister_ ) to say so much with her eyebrows alone did not get passed on to him.

He raises his head from where he's sniffing his practice t-shirt – it’s good for at least one more wear – and gives his mother his best wounded puppy look. She doesn’t even bat an eye. It’s not like he expected her to, but still – a boy can dream. “Ahem. Well mom, like you said, I need to get dressed and get going, so…” He trails off, looking pointedly at her, at the shirt in his hands, then back at her.

“Right, of course,” she says, leaving his room and sliding the door closed after her. He lets out a relieved breath, and quickly tugs off his pyjama bottoms, eyeing the clock with resigned terror. _So it was that easy? Could he have been using that as an excuse his entire life?_

“So, why exactly _were_ you up so late?” his mother asks from the other side of the door, and Hinata jumps about a foot in the air. _Easy my ass._

“I…wasn’t?”

“If you’re going to lie, Shouyou, at least do it well. I’d like to think I raised you better than that.”

“Okay, okay,” he sighs, trying to think on his feet and simultaneously remain _on_ his feet as he hops around putting his socks on. “I was up reasonably late, but it was…for a good reason!” _Nope, going to have to be more specific than that._

“Oh?” is all his mother says, content to listen to him flounder for a bit longer.

“Yes, it was-“ He’s almost there, he just needs a second to- Ah! _Got it._ “-an emergency!”

“An emergency?”

“Yes, it was about…Kageyama!” _Good one – mom thinks the sun shines out of Kageyama’s ass._ He takes a moment to pat himself on the back for that.

“Kageyama-kun? Is there something wrong?” Her voice goes soft, the same way it does when he’s in bed with a cold. _Ha, bingo._

“No no, everything’s fine. I just had to tell him…remind him, in fact, that he has a big math test tomorrow, and if he hasn’t studied for it, he’s going to have to do some major cramming.” Someone should give him a trophy or something, because that part isn’t even a lie. Kageyama was complaining about it earlier in the week, and Hinata hadn’t made fun of him for pouting – at least, not out loud – because he has the same strained relationship with numbers as Kageyama does. And don’t even start him on when they get _letters_ involved, jeez.

His mother’s silent for a moment, and when she speaks, Hinata doesn’t much like the sound of her voice; he’d be able to hear the smirk in it from a mile off. “Oh, that was kind of you, Shouyou, looking out for him like that. The two of you seem very close.”

“I…suppose you could say that.”

“Especially recently. You’re practically inseparable.”

“Yeah, he’s…a good friend.”

“You sure seem to know him well – you even told me exactly how he likes his boiled eggs for last Thursday’s curry.”

“Yeah, well, he’s really weird about his soft-boiled eggs, mom. He says that three minutes and forty-five seconds exactly makes them perfect, because he’s weird enough to have memorised the actual number. He wouldn’t have said anything to _you_ about it, not in a million years. But it’s his favourite, so…” He shrugs, even though his mother can’t see him, because he’s not quite sure what to say – he has no idea where she’s going with this.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have said a word, because Kageyama-kun is a very polite boy. He eats all his vegetables too, unlike a certain someone.” Hinata mutters under his breath, but quietly enough that she won’t be able to hear him (at least, he hopes she won’t). There’s another silence, long enough for Hinata to think that perhaps she might have finished her impromptu interrogation and left. He sighs (conversations with his mother often end in sighs, though they’re usually hers), zips up his jacket half way and picks up his hastily-folded school uniform, before making a move to go, wondering if he has time to sit down for breakfast if he pedals _really hard_. But it’s not over. It’s never over when he thinks it is; she’s like a villain in a really terrible horror movie – the best kind – that gets shot in the chest and _still won’t stop chasing you._ Except cuddlier, and with better one-liners.

“He’s a very nice boy, Shouyou,” she says, her tone deceptively casual, and he stops in his tracks. “You've picked a good one- ahem, a good friend.”

“Um…thanks?”

“Your father and I both like him.”

“Uuh?” is all he can think to say to that. _What the heck?_ She doesn’t need to tell him – the way they beam at him after Kageyama leaves is a good enough indicator.

“And he’s very good with Natsu.”

“Uuuuh?" She doesn’t have to tell him that either, so why-

“He’s handsome too.”

“Uuuuh!” _What the_ fuck _?_ “Mom!” He yanks open the door, immediately and _painfully_ aware of what she’s hinting at and ready to give her a piece of his mind (meaning gawk at her), but she’s already half-way down the hall, her laughter bouncing off the walls.  

 

.-.

 

Shouyou dashes into the kitchen, stopping only to nod at his father and grab a banana (Hiroki notes the positively _violent_ shade of his blush) before dashing out again, the front door clattering open and closed seconds later. Hiroki glances at his wife as she walks in and flops down in the seat across from him, practically wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“What have you said to traumatise our son now?” he asks – his chopsticks had paused centimetres from his mouth during the shock of the last few seconds, and he finally pops the rice in his mouth, chewing slowly while he waits for Masuyo to compose herself.

“Nothing much,” she answers after a minute or so, resuming her own breakfast with a grin she seems hard-pressed to get rid of.

“If it can cause Shouyou to leave without inhaling at least a bowl-full of food first, it’s not ‘nothing much',” he replies, unable to stop himself from grinning back at her.

“I couldn’t help it – he knows how long Kageyama-kun likes his _eggs boiled for._ _Exactly._ How could I not say anything about _that_?”

Hiroki takes this in, thinking about how he’s starting to get used to seeing the dark-haired boy sat at this very table, how his son lights up when he’s in the room, how the way Shouyou looks at Kageyama reminds him a little of how he looks at his wife of eighteen years. “Touché.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [cricket noises and one person coughing]


	12. in which kageyama has a lot of feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata isn't around and Kageyama definitely isn't worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's become a thing for me to start A/Ns with 'fucking hell' or some variation thereof, so here it is: FUCKING HELL. I owe you guys an apology - it's been a fucking long time, eh? So, I'm sorry. Y'know that mindset thing I mentioned? That's been the issue for a while now. For the past week or so, it's been the least stressful time I've had in a while (it was absolutely NOT possible to write before that, bloody hell). And yet, it's taken until now to bang something out that I'm actually happy with. It's hard to find the right time to write, but it's even harder to find the right head-space. 
> 
> However, after a long, long (long) time, I think I've finally found it. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope to hear from you down in the comments. I will, without fail, smile in a most goofy fashion at each and every one of them. That is a promise I can deliver on. 
> 
> The next update? Not a promise I can deliver on, so I won't bother making one. I will say, however, that when I've got something, I'll do my best to get it polished and posted as soon as I can. This is all for you guys, after all. 
> 
> I love you all,  
> (the apologetic and sappy as f) zadderlee
> 
> P.S. I'd love it if you came to yell at me on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/)! Anyone who loves these idiots is a friend of mine ;)

As the gym comes into view in front of him, Kageyama becomes aware of two things. The first: something is missing. The second follows immediately afterwards: Hinata is nowhere to be seen.

He doesn’t know how to process this information. His brain – which is running on considerably less than eight hours sleep – is just about able to manage a litany of swear words ( _fuck, fucking fuck, fucking hell_ , _and repeat_ ). Asking it to do anything more strenuous is absolutely _evil_ , which makes Hinata _evil_ , because it’s his fault that he’s being forced to think in the first place. _It’s always his fucking fault._ Kageyama opens his mouth, an admonishment hot on his tongue, before he remembers _oh yeah, he’s not fucking here for me to yell at._ He then remembers that’s the exact reason why he wanted to yell in the first place, and promptly stops that line of reasoning before he gives himself a headache.

 _He’s not here._ There, that’s a statement he can deal with. Nice and short and uncomplicated. _He’s not here, therefore he is somewhere else_. That one sounds a lot less intelligent than the first, but it is nonetheless true. _He’s not here, and he should be. Ah._ That’s it. That’s the kicker.

Wait. Kageyama stops dead. Or at least, he tries to - his foot catches on a rock, and he has to stick his arms out to get his balance back. It feels strangely poetic, in an irritating sort of way, to have his world tilt both literally and metaphorically.

Because, when Kageyama casts his mind back, right back over countless mornings with the wind whipping his hair into his eyes, with the sun warm on the back of his neck, with rain ricocheting off the umbrella his mother had forced into his hand, Hinata was always there. It’s not like they planned it or anything - they didn’t arrange to meet every morning. They didn’t have a designated meeting spot, didn’t hang around waiting for the other to show up. And yet, without fail, they always ended up sprinting, together, to reach the gym door first. If there ever was a time when their paths didn’t intersect (there must be, _surely_ ), he can’t remember it. But today…today, he’s alone.

He’s awake now. Awake enough to be aware of something cold and heavy lodging itself in his stomach. He tells himself that it’s ridiculous, that feeling so bent out of shape over something so minor, so inconsequential, as Hinata’s lack of presence is unbelievably silly. But the sensation lingers, clinging and refusing to budge, no matter how much frowning (read: sulking) he does about it.

Kageyama tries to muster even a shred of the anger he’d felt before, but it’s gone, evaporated into nothing. He _should_ be angry. It’s the usual time. If anything, Kageyama barely crawled out of bed in time himself. If _he_ could make it after being up half the night thinking of _absolutely nothing at all_ , then Hinata has no excuse. He should be here right now so Kageyama could beat him in their morning race, and maybe flick him on the forehead for good measure.

But he’s not here. And Kageyama, despite his brain being forced into action unceremoniously, still isn't equipped to deal with this development _at all_. He can’t stifle the completely irrational fears swirling around in his mind – that he might be sick, or there might be an emergency, or, knowing Hinata, he might have been on his way here when he got sidetracked by a fucking butterfly or something and fell in a ditch.  

Hinata makes him _crazy,_ recently more so than usual. He catches himself worrying about whether Hinata’s keeping hydrated, or whether he does enough stretching so as not to pull a muscle, or whether the little bruises he gets from being an idiot who can’t keep himself upright hurt more than he’s letting on.

And now he's worried, whether he likes it or not, about a change in something that didn't even occur to him as part of his routine, didn't occur to him as something he might miss if it was gone. If he’d have spared it a thought, he might have imagined he’d be glad to rid himself of the hassle. It’s annoying to tire himself out like that before practice has even started, and it's definitely annoying to be made fun of for it. 

But he’s become accustomed to Hinata being there, only an arm’s length away, in the pale, fragile morning light. When everything is just a little bit softer, when they can lie on the ground, panting, and feel an odd sense of kinship.

He’s become accustomed to this in the same way he has lots of things - things that he never expected to. Being part of a team, curry pork buns, inside jokes, the sensation of someone patting him on the back without it being condescending (Daichi and Suga are the masters of subtle demonstrations of pride). Hinata.

It feels _wrong_ that he’s here alone, in a way that’s childish and silly and unexplainable, like not checking under your bed for monsters before you go to sleep.

Kageyama feels a little as if a dam has opened, and all these gross feelings he doesn’t know what to do with – contentment, fondness, confusion, _concern_ – have come spilling out of him. For fuck’s sake, it’s not even eight o'clock in the morning yet.

Just when his thoughts are getting really scary, he hears familiar footfalls, careful, keeping a regular pace, behind him. He tries to arrange his face into a normal expression before Suga reaches him, but then again, he’s never been good at that.

“Hey, Kageyama! Where’s your other half?” Suga asks as Kageyama falls into step beside him. There’s dangerous glint in his eyes, and Kageyama is promptly reminded that he’s talking to the mastermind of the Great Kageyama-Hinata Gambling Ring, and the only person that can face a Daichi glare without flinching (not that Daichi would dare).

“I don’t know,” Kageyama mumbles lowly, mortified first at his response, then at how dejected his voice sounds, wishing with all his heart that he could pluck the words out of thin air and stuff them back into his mouth. What's  _with_ him today? 

Suga shoots him a sympathetic smile, and Kageyama wants to dig a hole and live in it. He could become a mole person. He bets mole people aren't complete and utter embarrassments. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Suga assures him, patting him lightly on the back. _I could do it. I could dig that hole right now._

“Yeah,” he mumbles again, ducking his head to hide his undoubtedly red face.

He looks up as they make it to the door, and he entertains the idea of Hinata standing there, yelling that he’s been waiting for _ages, dumbass Kageyama!_ He’s not there, and Kageyama kicks himself for feeling even a little disappointed, wondering what it is about mornings - this one in particular - that makes him such a sappy idiot. He's only half awake at best, he supposes - that's one reasonable explanation for it. 

Hinata may not be there,but Daichi is, opening his mouth to say something, before closing it when he gets a good look at Kageyama (or rather, at the look on Kageyama's face that says _bad mood_ in 10 ft. tall, flashing letters). He shares a look with Suga, before nodding, and telling Kageyama to get inside and start warming up. He doesn’t quite know what the look communicated, but he’s left alone for a while, so he’s eternally grateful.

The others slowly trickle into the gym after that, yawning and cracking various joints (before Suga shoots them a vaguely disgusted look that stops them abruptly).

All is as it usually is. Tanaka gets out the volleyballs, pushing Nishinoya in the cart for approximately five steps before Daichi sees them and quirks his infamous eyebrow. Then there's the inevitable comment from Kinoshita along the lines of _the misadventures of baldie continue, eh,_  followed by laughter from Ennoshita and Narita and scandalised shouts from Tanaka. Also inevitable is Tsukishima, who has a quip lined up that's similar to what Suga said to him earlier, only with 60% more bite to it; Yamaguchi can only nudge his shoulder, nodding towards Kageyama’s Homicidal Glare #4 and wincing. And, because Tanaka's left Nishinoya in the cart while he defends his own honour, Nishinoya takes it upon himself to jump out, narrowly missing Asahi (whose scream is of a very impressive volume).

All is as it usually is, except there’s the very obvious absence of a voice that’s far too excited for the earliness of the hour. A voice shouting, loud enough to echo throughout the room, about hitting his tosses. Kageyama dials up the glare a few notches, and Yamaguchi moves out of his path with a squeak. 

They all dawdle a bit longer than usual, wordlessly giving Hinata the chance to come barrelling in at the last second, but after a couple of minutes, they’re forced to start without him. Kageyama’s concentration is utterly shot – combining his shocking night’s sleep with the weirdness of this morning, Kageyama’s just grateful he hasn’t hit anyone in the face with the ball (yet), though there was a very near miss with Tsukishima (the comment he made about _lovesickness_ approximately three seconds before he had to dodge an out-of-control toss had nothing to do with it, of course). No one else says a word to him about it, though – they just give him knowing looks that make him fumble even more.

When he gets home, he's going straight to bed, and he isn't going to come out for a  _week._

It’s exactly ten minutes later – not that Kageyama’s watching the clock – when the door bangs open and Hinata hurtles into the room. He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and Kageyama drops the volleyball in his hands, his jaw dropping along with it. There’s a rather nasty scrape on Hinata’s calf, some angry-looking cuts and bruises on his arms and – fucking hell, are those _twigs_ in his hair? Something about seeing Hinata hurt, something about Hinata being so casual about it, brings his anger from earlier in the morning back in full force.

While Kageyama seethes silently, off to the side, Takeda gibbers something about stitches and internal bleeding. Hinata hurriedly assures him it’s not as nearly as bad as it looks, _honest,_ and Coach Ukai just rolls his eyes, motioning for Yamaguchi to go get the first aid kit. He does so, his expression saying he’s caught somewhere between concern, exasperation and amusement; it’s not the first time Hinata Shouyou has made someone look like that, and it won’t be the last.

“Woah, Shouyou! Did you get jumped or something? Are Ryuu and I gonna have to make some guys sorry?” Nishinoya mimes rolling up his sleeves, and Tanaka starts cracking his knuckles ominously, before catching himself and giving Suga an apologetic glance.

“Yeah, we’ll go teach 'em a lesson!” Tanaka declares.

“We’ll take them to _school_.”

“We’ll give them a _world-class education._ ”

“Uh, actually,” Hinata cuts in, before Nishinoya and Tanaka can smack-talk their way into paying some imagined mob's college tuition fees. “I just fell off my bike…multiple times. Eventually, I just decided to push it.” It’s all Kageyama can do to hold in a groan.

Hinata injuring himself is not an uncommon occurrence – hell, the last time had been yesterday, for fuck’s sake. The rest of the team rib him good-naturedly about it, calling him an idiot in various creative ways – Tsukishima, amidst his snickering, gets in a crack about birds nesting in Hinata’s hair (if his head weren’t all over the place, Kageyama would concede that the foliage Hinata’s sporting at present _is_ pretty funny). Yet here he is, having this completely unreasonable reaction.

He doesn’t know where all this anger is coming from, and he’s not even entirely sure who it’s directed towards. Hinata, for being so reckless? The others, who don’t seem affected in quite the same way he is? _Or are you angry at yourself_ , a traitorous voice in his head whispers, _because you didn’t stop it?_

 _No!_ That’s utterly stupid – how the hell is he supposed to stop Hinata from getting hurt when he’s not there? _You can’t_ , the little voice pipes up, sounding smug (is he going insane?), _but you want to._

Yes, he is in fact going insane. Sleep deprivation is a dangerous thing.

Daichi, oblivious to Kageyama’s spiral into madness, looks up at the ceiling, as if asking any eavesdropping deities for the strength to deal with this situation (Kageyama could also use some of that). “And why exactly did that happen?”

“Well, I forgot to set my alarm, so I was late, and…uh…I pedalled a bit too quickly?” The audible question mark at the end of his sentence just makes Kageyama more pissed, and Tsukishima snickers harder. “I’m sorry Captain, Coach – it won’t happen again!”

“I’m just surprised something like this hasn’t happened sooner.” Ukai sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just set your damn alarm clock, if this is what happens when you forget, and it _better_ not happen again. Or else I’ll be forced into having you sit out – we can’t have a decoy that’s too banged up to jump, can we?”

Hinata’s eyes go round and scared, and he trips over assurances and apologies in his haste to get them out. Coach Ukai waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll wait for Yamaguchi to come back, then get you patched up. We’ll see how it goes with practice.”

“And since you’ve already punished yourself, apparently,” Daichi intones, gesturing to Hinata’s injuries, “I’ll be lenient. This time.” Daichi smiles, and Hinata shudders. Suga just shakes his head, amused, and, with a gentle hand on his shoulder, guides Hinata over to the bench.

Kageyama hangs back a little, feeling awkward. He knows, as Hinata’s fake-boyfriend, that he should be doing _something_ about this – taking his hand, chiding him to be more careful, _anything._ But he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t want to risk opening his mouth in case something mortifying comes out.

“I was worried when you didn’t show up this morning.” _Wait, did I just say that out loud?_ From the look on Hinata’s face, like he’s just slapped him, he did, and yep, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“You- you were?” Hinata meets his eyes for a moment, then looks down abruptly, watching his hands twist together in his lap.

Kageyama doesn’t reply, his cheeks feeling hot, and everyone in the vicinity is suddenly very engrossed in their respective tasks. The room seems a lot quieter than it did a few seconds ago, and he swears, if everyone has quietened down to listen to Kageyama embarrassing himself, there’s going to be a _lot_ of accidental serves to the back of people’s heads this practice.

“Oh. Uh…” Hinata’s ears have gone pink, and Kageyama doesn’t even want to know what his own face is doing. There’s a muffled laugh from somewhere behind him that sounds very Tsukishima-like, and _oh, he isn’t going to know what hit him._ Well, he will – it’ll be a volleyball. But still.

“I…” He starts, but doesn’t know how to continue. Talking is not a good idea right about now. Neither is eye contact – he keeps his gaze firmly on the spot above Hinata’s head. 

“I’m sorry, I guess,” Hinata finally says, when the silence gets just shy of excruciating. “For…worrying you, I mean."

“Oh,” Kageyama echoes, hearing another laugh, followed by a stifled noise of pain and a shushing noise. _They’re all going to pay._ “Yeah, well, just make it on time, dumbass.” There are a few more muffled sounds at that, and Kageyama whips around just in time to see Yamaguchi return with the first aid kit.  

Yamaguchi freezes at the no-doubt _murderous_ look on his face.

“Just bring it over here,” Suga says, making everyone jump, and Yamaguchi, reminiscent of a spooked gazelle, tentatively makes his way over to the bench, dumps the box down next to Suga, and makes a run for it.  

 _Right, that’s it._ Kageyama coughs, needing to get out of this before his face catches fire. “I’ll talk to you after practice,” he mutters, not waiting for Hinata to reply, before striding off to pick up the ball he’d dropped earlier. His dignity, however, would not be so easily recovered.

 

.-.

 

As Kageyama slinks off, Tsukishima watches the way Hinata looks after him, a strange expression on his face. He seems to catch himself, turning back to Suga with a faint blush - not noticeable unless you were watching for it - staining his cheeks. Tsukishima smirks. This really is going to be fun.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to the best mum in the world, Sugawara Koushi! That boy gives me the strength to go on. 
> 
> Next chapter: probably some Suga being awesome (he just has to breathe, tbh) and definitely some Hinata being embarrassing (a.k.a. the whole fic)


	13. in which hinata doesn't pay attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you asked him what he learned that morning, Hinata couldn't tell you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! Oh man. Let me tell you, this chapter did not want to be written. This is the second version of the 'scene' as it were, and I've lost count of how many drafts there have been. It's just one of those things - chapter 9 was like this too, but like this one, it was all right in the end (as in, I managed to finish both without bursting into a flood of tears). It's shorter than the last one (which was the longest so far!), but it's definitely not the shortest chapter I've posted. I'd start compromising on the quality if I tried to stretch it out any longer, and I _really_ don't want to do that.
> 
> I've also had some laptop issues, so a lot of this has been written (at a frustratingly slow pace due to an unreasonably tiny keyboard) on my phone. Urgh. 
> 
> Now that I'm done complaining, on with the update! Thank you all so much for your support, whether you've been here from the first chapter, or you've happened upon this fic only recently. Welcome to any newcomers, too - you're in for a lot of awkwardness and a sporadic update schedule, so sorry about that (but not the former - I'm not sorry for that ;]). Also, if anyone's binge-reading this: you should probably go to bed, but _after_ you've finished this chapter (did I mention I'm a shameless enabler?). 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, and please feel free to leave a comment. You can also hit me up on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/); I'd love to hear from you (on or off anon) :) 
> 
> I love you all (every last one of you, even you Billy) (sorry to any 'Billy's),  
> zadderlee

Hinata picks at the bright pink band-aid on his arm, anxious for something to occupy his hands, and mentally apologises to Suga for doing so. He'd done a great job of cleaning him up, though Hinata expected nothing less.

The third year had insisted on applying each band-aid himself, regardless of Hinata, y'know, having functioning limbs that could do the job just fine. When he'd said something to that affect, Suga had ignored him, cleaning every scratch with care and sticking brightly coloured band-aids over the worst ones. He's pretty sure Suga stocks the first aid kit himself, what with the array of embarrassingly printed ones it held - he got off pretty lightly, all things considered.

At the time, of course, he couldn't find it in him to be grateful for small mercies. Or anything at all, really - from his place on the bench, most of his attention was focused on looking at anywhere Kageyama wasn’t. (Especially when he was doing serve practise. Especially when he was tossing to people who weren’t him. _Especially_ when he tugged up his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face _._ ) That, and alternating between being angry at Kageyama for being an embarrassing idiot, and himself, for being an embarrassing idiot about Kageyama being an embarrassing idiot.

Suga, ever merciful and kind, didn't comment on any of it. When he was done with his arms, he crouched down to clean the graze on his leg without a word. He only spoke up to apologise when Hinata winced a little at the sting of the sterile wipe, assuring him he was almost done. Suga was true to his word - he was remarkably efficient about it, and before Hinata knew it, the wipe was far, _far_ away from his leg, the dressing was on and it was over.

Hinata was reminded so much of his visits to the doctor as a kid, when Suga patted him on the shoulder and told him he'd done well, that he wouldn’t have been surprised by Suga reaching into his magical first aid kit and producing a lollipop for him. (He hopes Suga at least considers the profession. Hinata can picture it so easily: children staring up at Suga with huge, charmed eyes as he tells them they’ve been _very brave indeed_.) Suga then muttered something mostly unintelligible – something about _dumb kids doing dumb things_ and his _blood pressure_ , and, after one final pat, left him to stew.

Hinata’s tactics of avoiding further embarrassment worked well enough (there was only one awkward instance, when he’d accidently met Kageyama's eyes after he'd had taken a gulp from his water bottle, and Kageyama nearly spat it all over himself), until eventually, after meeting the laughing eyes of a teammate one too many times, he narrowed his gaze down to just his lap. He didn't want anyone to see the exact shade of  _fire engine_  his cheeks were, either.

He's in the much the same position now, keeping his eyes trained on his desk, only chancing a glance up at the clock every few minutes. He wills the hands to move faster.

He hasn't heard anything his teacher's said for the past forty-five minutes - he thinks he's in English class, but he can't be sure - and it's agonising just sitting here. Being static for long periods of time has never been a thing he's good at. He's always been scolded for fidgeting, or tapping, or some irritating combination of the two. Now, however, he’s so wound up that he's barely even twitching, feeling saturated with the potential for movement, like a rubber band pulled taut. Anything would beat this, and every cell in his body seems to be anticipating an escape.

 _Not much longer until break_ , he tells himself. _Just a little bit longer_.

Although, in keeping with this terrible day, break time isn't a much more attractive concept; the only things it has going for it is, of course, he'll be out of this room, and that it will provide him with a decent distraction from his thoughts, with something to _do_. Something that isn't watching time positively _crawl_ by.

He doesn't think he can face Kageyama for a little while - he'd escaped talking to him after practice by making a run for it at the earliest opportunity, and had spent the majority of last break (absolutely not hiding) in the second-floor toilets - so he's contemplating some more evasive manoeuvres. The least ridiculous thing he's come up with so far (and the most cowardly) is finding an out-of-the-way spot where he can eat his anpan in peace.

It's still a pretty stupid idea to avoid him (or, he supposes, to keep avoiding him). It'll be boring, and god knows what Kageyama will do when he gets hold of him (he expects to end up with a significant clump of hair missing, at least).

He knows he’ll have to face him at some point - across the corridor, across the club room, across the court, across Kageyama's own kitchen table because he's been invited over for dinner _again_ \- but the longer he can put it off, the better. At the very least, he wants to wait until he's stopped _blushing_.

Every time he thinks about it, running Kageyama's words through his mind over and over again until they wear thin, he can't stop the rush of blood to his cheeks, no matter how hard he tries. And he's been trying all right. He's been trying for _hours_.

As if that wasn't enough, he can't get the way Kageyama had looked, in that single, breathless moment, out of his head either. How genuine the uncertainty on his face seemed (exactly howgood at acting is he?), how Hinata didn't like seeing it there. Kageyama shouldn’t look like that – he should look fiercely sure of himself and his abilities, of his teammates, of  _him,_ because Hinata will always be there, one mere step behind him, ready to hit his toss. Hinata wanted to wipe the expression away with a flick of his wrist, to smooth out his forehead and rearrange Kageyama’s mouth into that little smile he can’t help but return.

But aside from that, and the ensuing unease, was the way Kageyama’s eyes looked when he caught his gaze, when those words, _I was worried_ , tumbled from his lips. They were more grey than blue, like storm clouds and slate and pencil lead – dark, fathomless. He’s not sure whether he’s ever looked at them like that before, really looked, as if committing their exact shade to memory.

Surely he can acknowledge, without it meaning anything, that he sort of likes Kageyama’s eyes? Even when they’re narrowed in irritation, even when they’re half-lidded and tired. Particularly when they’re like that, when they seem like they could be hiding something momentous in their depths. He wonders (can’t stop himself from wondering) what he’d have to do to get them to look like that again.

His eyes, his hair, mussed like he’d run a hand through it without realising, that shade of pink that arched high across his cheekbones, making its way down his face to his neck…

Hinata thinks he's probably in shock, or something like it. (Does shock involve chronic facial redness? Intrusive thoughts that won’t _stop already_?) He doesn't think he's ever been caught off guard quite so completely. The last thing he ever thought he'd have to prepare himself for was Kageyama experiencing sudden bursts of eloquence. (The _last_ thing he ever thought he'd have to prepare himself for was his _reaction_ to Kageyama experiencing sudden bursts of eloquence.)

But now, from the studio that brought you _disguising compliments with insults_ and _being incapable of showing concern without making vague, empty threats for show_ comes the new summer blockbuster: _emoting and expressing said emotions with words, all where other people can hear_! It's so surreal - he feels like he's been picked up, shaken, then placed back down again the wrong way up.

He's well aware that it's all a sham. Of course he is - what else could it, could any of it, be - but that doesn't stop him from trying, albeit fruitlessly, to make sense of it. This...development is all part of the whole fake dating thing, sure. He gets that. It's been the cause of a _lot_ of strange developments lately, after all. What Hinata doesn't understand is _where the hell it came from._

 _When_ did Kageyama decide that was the sort of thing they say to each other? Hinata thinks he missed that memo, missed Kageyama telling him about occasional attempts to incapacitate him with lines straight out of freaking shoujo manga, and about making sure his eyes went sparkly accordingly. (Then again, if Kageyama had told him about it, he would probably have stomped on his foot.)

It's not weird to feel so off-balance in the wake of it, Hinata assures himself, even if Kageyama didn't really mean it. It's not weird to be overwhelmed at how Kageyama has upped the ante by being so - there's no other word for it - _mushy_ (if the presumed next step is calling each other honeylump all the time like this one insufferable couple in his class, he really is going to stomp on Kageyama's foot). It's not weird that he cannot stop _god damn blushing_. He wonders, idly, about the health risks involved in having more blood in your face than the rest of your body combined, and whether Suga has anything in the first aid kit for that.

He takes a moment to have a very, very quick look around, just to make sure no one has noticed how weird he's acting (maybe he's concussed? Falling face-first into a bush certainly won't have done him any good, anyhow). There's a girl a row away that keeps glancing at him worriedly, biting her lip, and there's a guy by the window that's staring at him like he's a complete weirdo - not that he can really argue with that, per se - but really, he's happy with that. He's surprised the whole class isn't staring at this point. 

 _This is all Kageyama's fault - all of it._ Before all of this fake dating  _stuff_ , he...well, he didn't pay much attention in class then either. But at least he usually had more to show for himself than his name, the date and the relevant teacher on his page. He's definitely going to need to borrow someone's class notes. If he tells the girl who's looking at him like he's about to faint any moment - Kawano Machiko, nice girl, tall enough to make a good blocker with practise - that he's been feeling nauseous the whole time (which isn't too far from the truth), she'll be happy to help him out.

He feels a little bad about the sort-of deception, but he can't tell her the real reason _._  

Although, he'd appreciate someone telling _him_ the real reason. He's not even sure he knows what the hell is going on with him, what's been going on with him for days _._  Had he  _really_ spent any amount of time thinking about the precise colour of _Kageyama's eyes_? If he didn't know any better, he'd think... No, he's just a little tired, he supposes (he'd been up pretty late after talking to Kageyama and _jeez_ , there's a pattern forming here, isn't there). 

He thinks about what his mom said earlier,  _you've picked a good one_ , thinks about how the members of the volleyball club look at him, at them, and wonders what everyone else seems to understand, what everyone else seems to _know_ , that he doesn't. He wonders whether he'd like the answer.

The bell sounds, then, and he's never been so eager to leave a place in his _life._ He's on his feet before anyone else has even reacted, and, with what he hopes is a reassuring smile in Kawano's direction (it feels a little wobbly to him, but it's the best he can do), he's out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [looks around] [points at self in a "Who, me?" gesture] [laughs awkwardly and begins backing away]
> 
> [NB: because I managed to write myself into a corner with this chapter, I tweaked a few things. Nothing major, though - just some stuff that'll prevent me from tearing my hair out]


	14. in which kageyama attempts damage control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama bombs his math test and Hinata needs to watch where he's going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my good fucking GOD. For a while there, I thought I'd never finish this damn update. But I did! After (no exaggerations here) THREE separate drafts, countless re-writes and a lot of truly violent backspacing, here it is. Jesus Christ.
> 
> On that note, I'd like to apologise for the wait, and also for not responding to a few comments recently. I'll get to them as soon as I can, and please, please don't think I don't appreciate every last one of them. I do, I really do - you're all so lovely, and they all really brighten my day. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, and I'd like to thank you all for being so patient and understanding. Also, hello to all the newbies out there! I'm zadderlee, I'll be your waitress for this evening, and the specials are Fluff, Awkward Fluff, and Really Fucking Awkward Fluff, Don't Say I Didn't Warn You. So, what'll it be? The latter? Good choice. 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/) if you want to come talk to me over there. It'd be great to hear from you, on or off anon ^-^ 
> 
> I love all of you wonderful sunflower seeds,  
> zadd

Kageyama sighs, looking down at his test paper with a resigned sort of terror. He has ten minutes left to finish it, and no matter how hard he stares, the answers do not reveal themselves.

He’s scribbled in a few half-hearted numbers – he knows he’s got at least the first few questions right, but then again, that’s not much of a comfort. He can already see the red lines slashing angrily all over the page, the _see me after class_ written at the top. It’s a done deal. After all, his math teacher already thinks he has the intelligence of a root vegetable, so another bad grade won’t surprise her. It’ll just be another raised eyebrow, another _oh Kageyama, what am I going to do with you_ while she inspects her frighteningly professional manicure.

He looks at the clock again – _there goes another minute_ – and, since a miracle isn’t going to happen any time soon, he puts down his pencil. He really didn’t stand a chance today.

Last-minute cramming had completely slipped his mind, since he was too busy thinking about- well, _thinking._ He usually at least looks through his notes before a test (or, more accurately, spends about half an hour trying to decipher his own scrawled handwriting before calling it a day). But after days of complaining, days of putting off cracking open his ridiculously thick textbook, he’d just…forgotten. So he’d walked into class, seen the papers laid out on the desks, and it was all he could do to stop himself from groaning out loud. It’s unfair – it’s almost _comical_ how unfair it is.

And as if the odds weren’t stacked against him enough, he _can’t fucking concentrate._ Because Hinata is avoiding him.

Kageyama isn’t a genius by any stretch of the imagination (a swift glance at his test is a good indicator of that), but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.

He may not know the capital city of Canada, or why exactly that Shakespeare guy likes i-something penta-something so much, or what the _fuck_ is going on with linear equations, but he does know how to recognise when people are acting off around him. He learned how to pick up the signs at Kitagawa Daiichi, when the people that used to smile at him in the hallways stopped meeting his eyes. He watched as their expressions closed off, watched as they stopped listening to him, even when he raised his voice so loud they just _had to._ He watched as the people that were supposed to watch out for him, the people who were supposed to be his _team_ , started turning their backs on him in every way they could find. Because knowing what was happening was very different from knowing how to stop it.

He never quite learned tact, never could find the right thing to say at the right time outside the heat of the moment; the right thing to fizzle out someone’s anger, to help someone see his point of view. He never quite learned how to keep people close with his words instead of pushing them away. That’s always easier to do, always quicker to accomplish, since there are people out there that let themselves be pushed away, that won’t fight for you when you want them to, need them to. And that’s just the way it is.

But what's leaving Kageyama at a loss is that he isn’t even trying to push Hinata away. As far as he knows, he hasn’t said anything overly cutting or harsh or thoughtless recently. Nothing to make Hinata just disappear from the club room without saying a word. It wasn’t just a coincidence. Hinata wasn’t just in a rush or being absent-minded. He wouldn’t forget about their unspoken routine ( _exactly how many of those do they have?_ ) of bickering on the way to class. Hinata did a lot of things without thinking them through first, but every movement, every action, had some sort of purpose. So Hinata running, and Hinata being nowhere to be found during their first break, spoke volumes.

And if Kageyama has no idea of what he’s done wrong, it's going to be  _hell_ trying to fix it.

It had been awkward between them earlier this morning, sure. Hell, Kageyama might even put it in the top ten on his list of mortifying moments (which is pretty damn long). But that was all Kageyama’s doing. _He_ was the one who went one step further than putting his foot in his mouth and tried to straight up fucking _swallow_ it. Hinata has no need to feel as embarrassed about it as he does, shouldn’t feel responsible for any of it. Because Hinata, he’s sure, wouldn’t do something like that.

He thinks Hinata is much better at this whole pretending thing than he is, much better at walking the line between acceptable and unacceptable in the parameters of a ‘romantic relationship’. Or, more accurately, a ‘romantic relationship’ between Kageyama and Hinata (which has very, _very_ different rules, like not saying out loud that Kageyama _missed him_ ). They just don’t _say_ that kind of thing to each other. They operate on information that doesn’t need to be shared, on things that are known, instinctively, but never spoken aloud (well, off the court, at least), because it’s just, well…it’s just _embarrassing_. If anyone should be running and hiding, it should be Kageyama.

But he wouldn’t do that, because he knows that it’s just something that happened, and that they’re going to have to get past it. It was only a thing he said because he had to.

Well, no. That’s not strictly true. He didn’t _have to_ – he didn’t have to do anything exactly. But it was expected, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that the sort of thing boyfriends did – talk about their ooey gooey feelings? He was just playing his part, albeit in his own stilted way. Right? 

And he’s pretty sure Hinata understands that. Hinata is not the type to be deterred by awkwardness. Most of the time, he’s the one that mellows people out, getting them to relax even when they’re so far out of their comfort zone that they can’t even see it anymore. Didn’t he make friends with that setter from Nekoma in like ten minutes or something? If Kageyama remembers correctly, the kid seemed pretty uninterested in most things, even volleyball (which did _not_ sit well with him), yet he seemed very comfortable around Hinata – he even went as far as to call him by his first name, as if they’d known each other for years.

No, Hinata’s _far_ too much of a people person to let that sort of thing get to him.

Which means it’s something else entirely. Something that Hinata is no doubt blowing out of proportion in a spectacular manner. He’s good at that, good at tying himself in knots when no one is around to snap him out of it. Which is why he wishes Hinata would quit running off and let Kageyama _help him already_ , however he can. And because Hinata’s not really giving him a choice in the matter, he’s going to have to take drastic measures.

“All right class, pencils down,” Miyamoto-sensei says crisply, and Kageyama just about jumps out of his skin. “Start passing your papers to the front, and no talking until they’ve all been collected.” He does as she says (as if anyone could do anything else), making sure to turn his paper over so no one can see what he’s written.

Miyamoto-sensei is the type of teacher that never has to shout to be heard – just one word, one look from her, and she has the attention of the entire room. She gazes out over the rows of desks, as if surveying her kingdom; Kageyama thinks of that gaze trained solely on him, of the way her mouth will turn down when she gets a look at how Kageyama has desecrated the name of math, and wilts in his chair a little.

She doesn't keep them any longer than that, letting them go just before the bell (she’s scary, not mean), and Kageyama tries to push it all out of his mind. There’s nothing he can do to change it now, and besides, there’s something else he needs to think about. Something that’s – at least in his opinion – far more pressing.

Kageyama stops outside Hinata’s classroom, leaning against the wall and trying his hardest to look casual, like he does this sort of thing all the time. He doesn’t, of course – to continue with today’s apparent theme, he’s doing yet another thing that’s out of the norm for them. He feels exposed, and the colour of his uniform, along with his (advantageous for most of his life, but now highly unfortunate) height, are making it hard to blend in. He stops tapping his foot as soon as realises the noise is echoing annoyingly through the corridor, because the last thing he wants is to draw more attention to himself. 

The bell goes, and he straightens up, moving to stand closer to the door in case Hinata bolts as soon as he sees him (which, while ridiculous, is a distinct possibility). Hinata is fucking _fast_ , especially when he’s being chased, so he’s got to be prepared.

What he is not prepared for, however, is the door being ripped open and Hinata colliding soundly with his chest. Kageyama’s hands move of their own volition to steady him (well, it certainly wasn’t _his_ idea), and Hinata freezes, seemingly just realising who he has barrelled into.

Well, that could have gone better.

Kageyama takes a step back, noting Hinata’s excellent tomato impression, and the way they’re blocking the way out for Hinata’s entire class, then makes a split-second decision. He grabs Hinata’s wrist, shoots a sharp look at the people staring at them, and tugs Hinata along the corridor, not stopping even after they’ve turned the corner.

They get more than a few odd looks, and he doesn’t even want to _think_ what this looks like, him swooping in and whisking Hinata away to somewhere private. It’s not like he can correct them – at this point, he’s not even sure they’d believe him. Hinata and him have become rather infamous over the past several weeks; fuck knows what kind of rumours will be circulating about them now. (But he has a feeling he’ll find out from Tanaka and Nishinoya – or worse, _Tsukishima –_ soon enough.)

But he can't worry about that now - he has to think about what he's going to _say_. And that really isn't his area.

He'll just have to keep it simple. Trying to overcomplicate things is where he falls down, where his meaning gets muddied and he starts getting frustrated. Getting frustrated is the _worst_ possible thing he could do, because then Hinata would automatically get defensive, would stop paying so much attention to what he's saying. He's not going to shout, he's not going to give Hinata any room to wiggle out of answering. He'll just ask him what's going on, and what Kageyama can do about it. _That's enough,_ he thinks. He doesn't want to scare him off. In fact, Hinata isn't even trying to escape his grip – firm, but careful not to hurt him – and that could either be a good thing or really, _really_ bad; Kageyama doesn’t turn around to ascertain which. He doesn’t do much of anything except glare to quickly clear a path for them and try extremely hard not to make eye contact with anyone as they pass by. He’s not even entirely sure where he’s taking Hinata, so when Kageyama pulls him through a door and they find themselves in a quiet stairwell, he decides it’s as good a place as any to stop.

He doesn’t let go of Hinata’s wrist (he still poses a flight risk), and as he turns to face him, he braces himself for any number of reactions.

“What’s up, Kageyama?” Hinata looks him right in the eye, and aside from a faint flush (well, Kageyama did just make him power-walk for a solid few minutes - it's reasonable), all traces of embarrassment are seemingly gone from his face. He’s acting like they’ve just bumped into each other in the fucking hallway or something. Right – _that_ he was not expecting.

Scared? It's only natural, really; as far Hinata knows, Kageyama's dragged him here, to a place with no witnesses, so that he can murder him in peace and quiet. Guilty? Par for the course. Angry? Perhaps – Hinata can’t resist giving as good as he gets, even when he’s cornered. But _calm_? _Blank_? It’s unnerving.

“What?”

“I said, what’s up? And what was all that about? I mean, I know dragging me somewhere to yell at me is your thing, but really.”

Kageyama is floored. “ _Huh_?”

“Hey, are you all right? You look a little-” He screws up his face in an awful imitation of Kageyama’s Homicidal Glare #2 (a firm favourite) and waves his hand about, as if that’s enough for Kageyama to understand him. Well, it is, but that’s not the point.

“Are _you_ all right?” Kageyama gets out, finally. “Where have you been?”

Hinata looks at him a little funny, then drops his gaze. “I’m fine. I just...went to ask Suga-san if he’d help me with something for Literature. They look at the same text every year, apparently, so I thought he might be able to give me some pointers.”

Kageyama just _stares_ at him for a moment. He hadn’t thought to check the third year classrooms. He hadn’t thought- “Oh. Right.”

“I thought I told you about it – I must have...forgotten. Sorry if you were looking for me or whatever.”

“But you weren’t there after practice either,” he says, feeling like he’s slipped into a parallel universe. Had he _imagined_ how hard Hinata was blushing earlier?

There’s something odd in Hinata’s expression, then, but it’s gone in a moment, and Kageyama’s not even sure if it was really there. He’s not sure of a lot of things. “Well...we were done with practice later than usual,” Hinata says, gesturing pointedly at the bright yellow band-aid on the back of his hand, “and my teacher is really scary if you come in late. Trust me, you wouldn’t risk it either.” He has a point – Hinata’s Incident had set them back a bit.

“But-”

“Oh!” Hinata interrupts, smiling at him disarmingly. Kageyama doesn't think he's seen Hinata smile like that before, and he wonders what (if anything) that could mean; Hinata continues, then, scattering his thoughts. "I meant to say earlier - you’re doing a great job with the whole acting thing. But we should probably start toning it down for the break up, yeah?”

“Uh…yeah,” Kageyama repeats inanely. _Acting. Huh._

Hinata talks at him for a while after that, stopping long enough to ask how his test went and make sympathetic noises when all he does is scowl. The longer Hinata talks, with more frantic gestures and excited noises than usual, the more Kageyama starts to relax, relieved that he must have got it wrong. After all, he can’t deny the proof that he'd jumped to conclusions when it's right in front of him, telling him how he can’t wait to eat his mother’s cooking again.

They walk back to their classrooms in the same fashion, Kageyama becoming comfortable enough to start yelling at him, and by the time he sits down in History class, he’s convinced that it was all in his head. 

(However, if he’d seen the way Hinata’s smile slid right off his face, as soon he was sure he was out of Kageyama's sight, he might have reconsidered.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [AOL dial up sound]


	15. in which hinata realises some things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata is completely stumped about what to do next, so he gets some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. I don't think this chapter liked me very much, seeing as it seemed to fight me at every fucking turn. Quick, take it off me, before it starts scratching!
> 
> I apologise about the wait for this chapter. I've been kicked in the arse by several different responsibilities this past month and a bit, and it's taken a lot to find the right head-space. But here it is, finally, and I hope you enjoy it :) It's the longest one yet! I'm also sorry for taking so long to reply to comments. Every single one means a lot to me, and I promise to try and work on that.
> 
> I'd like to say thank you again to everyone who has clicked on this fic. You guys are all lovely, and I appreciate every indication that you've enjoyed what you've read, be it by bookmarking it, leaving kudos, or writing a comment :)
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/) if you'd like, on or off anon (nice anons make my life, just so you know)! 
> 
> I love you guys so, so, _so_ much,  
>  ~zadderlee

Since leaving Kageyama’s house, Hinata hasn’t known what to say.

It was all right when Kageyama’s parents were there. His father asked after Hinata’s family, asked him about how he's been doing in practice, and his mother quietly embarrassed Kageyama in her typical fashion, telling Hinata stories about when Kageyama was in elementary school and was, even if Hinata hadn't thought it possible, more awkward than he is now. They seamlessly involve Hinata in their conversation, and he can forget for a while, eating good food and feeling right at home with them. Kageyama filled in the gaps in Hinata’s stories, responding well to the teasing (as in, he turned a bright shade of pink and started yelling, which was hilarious, as always). When he'd calmed down enough, Kageyama even smiled once or twice; the small, genuine one that Hinata likes best. He was fine then, and so was Hinata.

But as soon as they’d stepped out into the fading light, Kageyama’s mom shouting after them that Kageyama should walk him at least half-way home, the words that had flowed freely in company clotted at the back of his throat, thick and choking. Here, with nothing but twilight between them, the trundling of his bike tyres the only sound, he can’t avoid the fact that he’s been lying to Kageyama. That he's been desperately distracting himself from his own thoughts with frantic gestures and swift evasions, shutting Kageyama out in a way he never has before. 

His guilt, heavy and leaden in the bottom of his stomach, mixes with his residual shock; there was a point when he didn't think he could lie convincingly to anyone, least of all Kageyama. There was a part of Hinata, even as he spoke, his hollow words echoing back at him in the stairwell, that was convinced Kageyama wouldn’t believe it for a second. He was waiting for it, for the _bullshit, now cut to the chase, moron_. For Kageyama to start looming over him, waiting for him to spill his guts.

It didn’t happen.

He’d timed it just right: Kageyama felt just relieved enough that there wasn’t a crisis on his hands after all to miss his suspicious pauses, the moments where his unease leaked through despite his best attempts to stopper it. Kageyama had relaxed, in increments, and Hinata's confident that he succeeded in fooling him. 

And now, when he can’t think of anything except _I’m sorry_ , or _I feel a little bit like I’m on the edge of a precipice and I’m about to fall_ , he sort of wishes he hadn’t. He doesn’t _like_ lying, but he doesn't like feeling trapped more. And that’s why he’d done it, to give himself some space to figure everything out.

But there’s space now, lots of it, and the answers he has, clutched tight to his chest in case they try to escape, are outnumbered two to one by the questions that still flock insistently around him. He looks to the side, notes the way Kageyama’s face has just…closed off, everything tucked carefully behind that blank expression that he really, really hates. 

 _I did that,_ he thinks, _I made him uncomfortable by being so painfully awkward_. _B_ _ut I don't know how to go about fixing it when everything's so all over the place_ _._  He knows that's not an excuse for being an asshole, though. So he racks his brain for something to say, something light and meaningless, working to unstick his dry tongue from the roof of his mouth - it's never been so hard to just talk to him. 

“You really didn’t have to walk me all the way,” he says, when the words finally come. This is him, trying, because the silence has been trying, and he can't stand to lose even a fraction of the closeness between them. He can't let Kageyama think for a  _second_ that Hinata's even slightly like all the others who have slowly pulled away from him. _  
_

Kageyama looks at him like he’s an idiot (it’s a familiar look), and Hinata realises that it’s a rather redundant thing for him to say, given that they can't be more than a couple of minutes away. He doesn’t care, though, because it’s _something_ , and Kageyama’s expression is open again, like he's forgotten about keeping such a tight grip on his emotions. Hinata can read him like this, can see the small uptick of his mouth that tells him whatever Kageyama may say next, he isn't really angry. _This is the way it should be._

“It’s getting dark, dumbass.” Insults – a good sign. Hinata thinks he's almost got his footing now. 

“So?”

“So, you want to walk by yourself when it's dark?" 

"Are you kidding? Since when do I live in a crime hotspot?" He's more likely to be given a pot of soup by that nice old lady with the chickens than anything else. Not that she doesn't come out of the shadows creepily sometimes, but he assumes that's not on purpose. 

"So you're saying you would be fine going through the short-cut alone?

"Sure, I'm not scared!"

"You? Who watches horror movies from behind the couch?” 

“Oh come on, going through one alley isn’t _so_ bad.” And he maintains that, during the film's climax, Kageyama had kept his eyes firmly behind his hands until the screaming stopped. Well, as much as he could tell from his place behind the couch. 

Kageyama scoffs, and Hinata feels his steps lighten, feels the wheels of his bike turn easier. “Threealleys."

"It's definitely not more than _two._ " 

"Do you even know your own neighbourhood? Besides, you heard my mom. She’d have been worried if I hadn’t.” 

“She _said_ that you’d have been fine to leave me to it by now. Seeing as halfway there does not mean _escorted to my door_.” But he's warmed by the gesture nonetheless.

Kageyama rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You’re too short to fight back if someone jumps you.”

“What?!”

“You’d get knocked out with one hit.”

“Would not!” Hinata knows that's not a particularly good argument, but he's too anxious to keep this going than think too hard about what he's saying. He puffs out his cheeks, feigning that he's more offended than he really is. It’s coming easily now – this is  _them_ , unwilling to give up even an inch of ground. He knows this. He _enjoys_ this. “Besides, I’m fast enough to dodge!”

“Idiot. You couldn’t win a thumb war.” He punctuates this statement by kicking a rock into the pooling shadows, and Hinata doesn’t startle _at all_ from the sudden noise. And Kageyama  _definitely_ doesn't notice, smirking at him, because Hinata would have decked him if he had. Definitely. 

“Could so!" 

"Says the guy that sounds less mature than his little sister."

"Natsu's more mature than most people. More mature than _you_ anyway." That's not even an exaggeration.

"Whatever." Hinata takes that for the concession it is. "I'd still need to be here."

"Why would you being with me make that much difference, anyway?” It's not like there are any volleyballs around to launch at potential attackers. 

Kageyama gives him a flat stare, like he’s being an idiot again. “It’s obvious. Because we make a great team. We make each other stronger, remember?”

Hinata's brain shorts out. 

Oh man. _Oh man. Yep, he just said that. With his mouth. Yep. That's a thing he said._  And just when they were doing so well, too. 

“Oh. Uh…” Yep, he’s done. There’s no way he can respond to Kageyama saying something like _that_ outside of the heat of the moment. On the court? Sure. Everything is more intense there, every bond more solid. Off the court, alone, and with this weird atmosphere still lingering between them? With the last time Kageyama said something like that still fresh in their minds? _Nope. K.O. Game over._

Kageyama stares at him for a bit, no doubt confused as to why he's gone from spirited to speechless in seconds, and Hinata can tell the exact moment when Kageyama's brain catches up to his mouth, when he realises that he’s said something off-script from their usual bickering: he looks away, like he’s pretending the whole conversation never happened. Brilliant.

Hinata steels himself to spend the rest of the walk in tense, oppressive quiet, heavy with things neither of them are going to say, and Hinata doesn't know who he should be more irritated with: Kageyama or himself. But just then, as if the universe is aware that it’s given Hinata enough shit for one day, his house comes into view in front of them.

“Oh, look at that, it’s my house! My house, the house that's mine. Haha...Thanks for walking me here! Bye!” And with that, he unlocks the door and runs – a coward by his own admission – inside, pulling it shut behind him with a bang.

 

.-.

 

After letting the hot water wash over him for a good five minutes, Hinata finally pulls the energy from somewhere to start washing his hair. He steals some of Natsu’s shampoo – which smells of strawberries, and should therefore be shared for the greater good – to try and make himself feel better. She won’t mind even a little bit, anyway; she’s far too generous for that. His mom might, seeing as it’s got some sort of anti-tangle, no-tears alchemy going on, and it’s ridiculously expensive. But he’ll deal with that later, when he feels less like some sort of squishy fungus masquerading as a teenage boy.

The shampoo works, to an extent, because he leaves the now steam-filled room feeling just a little less dire than when he went in. He thinks seeing Natsu herself would be even more effective, and being roped into one of her games would certainly offer an excellent distraction. But she’s definitely asleep by now, her story and night-time rituals long completed. His parents might kill him if he poked his head around her door and undid all their hard work.

He doesn’t really feel like being alone right now. He doesn’t feel like doing any of the thinking that being alone encourages - he’s done enough of that for a while, he thinks, going round and round in circles and tying himself in mental knots.

He’d go talk to his parents for a bit, ask them how their days have been, but he’s already told them that he’s tired and will be going straight to bed. Besides, the reason he told them that in the first place is they’re far too sharp to let his weird mood slide without saying something about it. And what’s he going to tell them? _My best friend, who’s socially inept on_ _a good day, just said something sweet for the second time in twenty-four hours and it’s made me feel weird?_ No thanks.

He tries looking at his History homework for a bit - only for something to do - and takes a stab at the two chapters he needs to read for Literature. But he can’t make sense of any of the dates swimming in front of his eyes, and he definitely wasn’t lying about struggling with the book.

So he just collapses back onto his bed, wraps himself in blankets and, after making sure he’s set his alarm (he won’t make _that_ mistake again), he tries to get to sleep. School was draining, practice was as intense as it usually is, and he thinks he ate too much at Kageyama’s house – any combination of those things usually works like a charm. He certainly _feels_ exhausted enough, his arms and legs heavy with fatigue. If there’s nothing keeping him awake, no anxiety churning in his stomach, it can take as few as five minutes for him to fall asleep. It takes about ten of them, squishing his nose in his pillow and restlessly repositioning himself, for him to give up on that, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.

Then his phone chimes, and he’s smiling as he dives across the room to fish it out of his uniform pants; it turns into a full-blown laugh when he sees who the message is from.

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:35] ** _  
> _**_ **
> 
> _You just have to mash the b button_

 

He’s only just responded to a text Hinata sent him at the weekend, asking for help beating a particularly difficult boss in a game that Kenma himself had recommended (Kenma either responds in seconds or days – there is no in-between) and this must be a continuation of the mercy from earlier.

Because he really enjoys talking to Kenma – when Kenma remembers to reply, that is. He’s blunt and honest (the latter of which Hinata always appreciates, and _yes_ , he’s aware of how much of a hypocrite he is), but in a way that’s different from Kageyama’s tactlessness. He manages to make every observation sound like some sort of unavoidable truth, and all you can say is _well, yeah,_ because it just makes sense when it's coming from Kenma. He’s funny too, in way that requires knowing him well enough to tell he's joking, (and sometimes in a way that’s smart enough to go entirely over Hinata’s head). He’s also a good listener, and he can always offer an alternative perspective on a situation that makes Hinata feel better.

Not that he wants to talk about the mess in his head at the moment. He just wants to talk, about nothing in particular, and maybe pick Kenma's brain for cheat codes.

 

 

> **_You [20:35]_ **
> 
> _thx kenma!_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:36}_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _That’s okay. It’s not as hard as it looks at first_
> 
> _You’ll get it_

 

 

> **_You [20:36]_ **
> 
> _ur the best!!_
> 
> _so how r u?? ( ´_ _▽ ` )_ _ﾉ_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:37]_ **
> 
> _Uh…okay, I guess_
> 
> _…You?_

Hinata chokes on a vaguely hysterical-sounding giggle.

 

 

> **_You [20:38]_ **
> 
> _thts gd! I’m fine, thx._

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:39]_  **
> 
> _Are you sure? Because you just used proper punctuation_

So that’s where his momentary good fortune ends.

 

 

> **_You [20:39]_ **
> 
> _no idea wut you’re talkin abt._

 

He thought he’d be safe from Kenma’s ridiculous intuition over the phone, but evidently that was stupid; something as insignificant as distance wouldn’t be enough to throw off Kenma. Before he can even start thinking of a non-incriminating response, his phone chimes again.

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:40]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _Really? Because you just did it again_

 

Damn it.

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:41]_ **
> 
> _That, and you don’t bother with small talk_
> 
> _You just go straight to the weird animal pictures_

 

Well, Hinata can’t help that so many cats look like Kenma.

 

 

> **_You [20:41]_ **
> 
> _i dont do tht all the time_ _╮(_ _＾▽＾_ _;;)_ _╭_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:42]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _You really do_
> 
> _So?_

That’s it – there’s no getting out of it. He might as well tell him the truth (or, at least, some of the truth), before he gets all passive-aggressive and wheedles it out of him.

 

 

> **_You [20:43]_ **
> 
> _all rite, im nt exactly fine_
> 
> _i dunno hw i feel_

There’s a few minutes pause, and Hinata can almost _hear_ Kenma thinking.

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:46]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _This sounds like a problem for #2 on your team_
> 
> _The one like Yaku, but less angry_

 

Hinata takes a moment to wonder about _Yaku,_ before he remembers Nekoma's libero and it all makes sense. 

 

 

> **_You [20:47]_ **
> 
> _u mean Suga-san??_
> 
> _theres a reasn I cant tell him_
> 
> _dont ask lng stry_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:49]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _So let me get this straight_
> 
> _I’m your only option?_

 

 

> **_You [20:50]_ **
> 
> _prtty much actully_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:51]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _Great_
> 
> _Well, I can’t promise I’ll be of any actual help_
> 
> _But out with it_

 

 

> **_You [20:53]_ **
> 
> _well theres this person thts_
> 
> _i dunno_
> 
> _makng me feel funny???_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:54]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _In what way?_
> 
> _Bad?_

Oh boy.  

 

 

> **_You [20:55]_ **
> 
> _no nt bad_
> 
> _srt of…squirmy_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:56]_ **
> 
> _Do you know them well?_

 

 

> **_You [20:56]_ **
> 
> _yh_
> 
> _tht mite b part of the problem_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:57]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _So has something changed with you and this person?_
> 
> _Something to make you see them differently?_

Another vaguely hysterical giggle.

 

 

> **_You [20:57]_ **
> 
> _u could say tht yh_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [20:58]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _How do they treat you?_ _Are they nice?_

 

 

> **_You [20:59]_ **
> 
> _nt nice exactly_
> 
> _but I knw he cares_

Even if he’s really, really bad at showing it (and _good_ , sometimes, which is an entirely different issue).

 

 

> **_Kenma!! [21:00]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _And you like spending time with him?_

 

 

> **_You [21:02]_ **
> 
> _yh_
> 
> _I do_

He knows that much, at least. The worst thing about today is how quickly the easiness between them has evaporated. And he wants it back – badly. 

 

 

> **_Kenma!! [21:03]_ **
> 
> _Does he make you happy?_

 

Hinata wonders where Kenma is going with this.

 

 

> **_You [21:03]_ **
> 
> _he does_

It’s only now that Hinata realises they’ve been using male pronouns. That _he’d_ volunteered those male pronouns. _Whoops._

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [21:05]_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _Okay. That’s helpful_
> 
> _Right, last question. Do you see this guy as a brother?_

 

His reaction to that is instantaneous, visceral. 

 

 

> **_You [21:05]_ **
> 
> _no_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [21:07]_ **
> 
> _Okay. Bear in mind this is just based on what you’ve said_
> 
> _But I think I know why you feel weird_

 

 

> **_You [21:08]_ **
> 
> _tell me!!!_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [21:10]_ **
> 
> _Brace yourself_

Hinata does.

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [21:10}_ ** **_  
> _ **
> 
> _I think you have it bad for this guy_

 

Hinata didn’t brace himself enough.

 

 

>   ** _You [21:10]_**
> 
> _shfdss???????????????????D >LWPIGHUO_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [21:11]_ **
> 
> _I’m going to assume that you’re in shock_
> 
> _And that you’re not, in fact, having a stroke_

 

 

> **_You [21:12]_ **
> 
> _kENMA_

 

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [21:13]_ **
> 
> _So, I'll leave you to think about that bombshell_
> 
> _And Shouyou?_
> 
> _I think you should tell Kageyama how you feel_

Hinata is sure that, somewhere in Tokyo, there is a small blond boy currently laughing his ass off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add the end note what has become of me
> 
> Next chapter: [high-pitched screaming and distant, thumping bass]


	16. in which suga and daichi contemplate a problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga figures out the issue at hand and Daichi is frazzled for multiple reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys.  
> 1) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH  
> 2) See 1
> 
> The a/n for this chapter got SUPER LONG, so I just decided to make it into a [SUPER LONG](http://zadderlee.tumblr.com/post/135735259186/frick-tldr-version-of-fake-it-make-it-ch16-an/) tumblr post instead. Here's the abstract: I suck, so does life because it gets in the way of my volleyball children, I'm so fucking sorry about the wait/taking aeons to reply to comments (I promise I'm working on replying to all of them), and I love you all. _SO_ much. 
> 
> In other news, there is [fAN ART](http://vesloth.tumblr.com/post/131931189469/future-doctor-suga-from-zadderlees-amazing/). I REPEAT: _FAN ART_. I've gushed about this enough for it to be really bloody embarrassing already, bUT I LITERALLY CANNOT STOP. WHENEVER I THINK ABOUT THIS I START SMILING AND IT MAKES ME LOOK DERANGED, BUT I DO NOT CARE. I cannot thank the amazing (and unendingly supportive) [vesloth](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/) enough for this; please shower her with all the praise she deserves. 
> 
> And with that, on with Chapter 16 (and about fucking time too)!  
> ~zadd (and if there are any mistakes, as usual, please bear with me as I sob and eventually get around to fixing them)
> 
> [Also, happy birthday to Kageyama, the light of my life. What would I do without him?]

The morning starts quite well for Suga.

He wakes up just a few minutes before his alarm, which gives him time to luxuriate in the stillness of the morning, interrupted only by distant, murmuring voices. It’s an instant lift to his mood to be able to get up in his own time, without the threat of his mother coming in to passive-aggressively open the curtains if he takes too long. She doesn’t even say a word; that’s what gets him. If she paid him an obnoxious _good morning_ as she attempted to blind him, he might just have something to say about it. But she’s just in and out, efficiently, like she’s airing an empty room (which would make him nothing more than particles of dust, and that’s rather a large downgrade from only, and therefore favourite, son); honestly, it’s just easier not to argue.

It explains the slightly ridiculous satisfaction he feels when he turns the alarm off, just in time. And if he makes a little victorious sound under his breath as he does it, well, she’s not there to hear him.

He’s not particularly averse to getting up early – especially sans a rude awakening. Of course, he likes lie-ins as much as the next person ( _Sundays_ , he thinks wistfully – _Sundays are gifts_ ), but he also likes, when he’s rubbed the sleep from his eyes, to see the world outside his window wake up. He likes to watch the light pour in, inching its way across the floor; likes the way it warms the wood beneath his feet as he makes his way towards the kitchen. He likes hearing the faint, lilting chatter of birds outside as his father fiddles about with the rice cooker, his mother leaning against the counter to supervise. There’s an amused tilt to her mouth – she knows what’s going to happen next. They all do. Keeping an eye on the fish as it grills, it’s all Suga can do to laugh when, not two minutes later (it’s taken less than that before), it starts making angry beeping noises, as if it's protesting against being handled by someone who has no idea what they're doing. His father hops away from it like a startled rabbit, and his mother just rolls her eyes as she rescues their breakfast.

After his father has smoothed back his hair and cleared his throat, endeavouring to put the incident behind him, they sit down at the table, exchanging quiet conversation between bites. They talk about the days ahead of them: about the test Suga has last period, the presentation his mother has at work, the paperwork his father has to hand in today _(on pain of a not-particularly-swift-at-all demise_ , as he puts it). His father says something about a co-worker without realising it's funny; as his mother laughs, the sound like wind chimes in a light breeze, he looks comically surprised. Then he smiles, and it's soft, delighted at earning such a response. It makes something warm settle in Suga's chest.

It’s an excellent way to begin the day, and he takes a moment to savour the tranquillity (Karasuno Volleyball Club are a lot of things, but  _calm_  is not one of them). He gets dressed, taking the time to dig his favourite pair of socks out from the bottom of his drawer (they’re old and slightly pink from a laundry mishap, but unreasonably soft). He pulls on his shoes, shouts his goodbyes to his parents, who are also on their way out – _no dad, I have not seen your orange and teal tie, and I think it’s for the best_ – and steps out his front door with a happy sigh.

The sky stretches out, blue and cloudless, above him, and he makes it nearly a block before he gives in to the urge to whistle tunelessly; his  _twinkle twinkle little star_ sounds a bit like a rendition from someone who’s never heard what it’s _supposed_ to sound like, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t have to be the best to enjoy something. Sometimes, he finds, it’s more fun if he isn't - it makes every note he does get right that much sweeter.

The cat that lives down the street - the one with the tag on her collar that says _Miki_  ( _fitting_ , he thought, when he first saw it)who likes to twine around his legs and get white fur all over his pants - clearly does not appreciate his cheeriness. She pads up to him cautiously, tilting her head to the side, which is no doubt an expression of _why are you making that noise with your face, human? Are you in pain?_ Nonetheless, she stops at his feet, waiting for the usual scratch under her chin, but manages to look extremely unimpressed with him while she does. He’d be insulted by her behaviour, but he’s seen her claw at other unsuspecting passers-by, so he counts himself lucky instead.

She holds him up for a little longer than usual, as if to make up for her doubt over his musical abilities. She insists on passing around his legs five times, rubbing her head on his shin with a satisfied _merp,_ before letting him go - in the end, there are no hard feelings.

She certainly isn’t the only one who’s reacted like that to his untimely jovial displays; as much as Daichi tries, he is not a morning person, and at the slightest hint that someone might be one, that they’re going to _flaunt_  it in front of him, he gets this adorable crease between his eyebrows. Which is why Suga doesn’t stop whistling, even as he reaches the doors to the gym.

He’s just about to start his fourth repetition of the song, louder and more insufferable than ever, when he notices. His feet stall, and the whistle dies on his lips.

There’s a crease between Daichi’s eyebrows all right, but not the one that makes Suga smile at the sight of it. The crease on his face as he stands just inside the doors, like he’s noticed a glass balanced precariously on a ledge and is wondering if he’s too late to stop it toppling, makes Suga's good mood evaporate into the ether.

He doesn’t like that look, has never seen it in a positive situation. He saw it when Asahi’s shoulders slumped after the match with Dateko, saw it when Nishinoya was rushing around trying to find their ace, spoiling for a fight. It's the look that speaks of imminent disaster, of an event, a _collision_ , that’s yet to take place.

“What is it?” Suga asks, afraid to know the answer, but at the same time _needing_ to know, to do something about it. He can hear the squeak of sneakers coming from inside, the _thwack_ of volleyballs, one after the other, hitting the ground. It's a familiar sound, one made strange by the blanket of disquiet draped over the scene.

Daichi starts a little when he speaks, as if he hadn’t noticed him approaching, and that only worries Suga more – it’s not like he was being quiet, and Daichi is normally very difficult to surprise. Something is wrong. Really wrong. Daichi sighs, stepping out into the fresh morning air that had filled Suga with content just moments ago. “I’m not sure,” he replies lowly, most likely trying not to be overheard. He takes Suga’s sleeve, attempts to lead him away from the door, but Suga resists. He needs to see this.

Taking a deep breath, to fortify himself, he peeks in. 

He's just in time to see Kageyama send the ball sailing down on the other side of the court. Apparently that wasn't the spot he was aiming for: the noise of frustration he makes is not misplaced, or unusual, but the look on his face is. It's intent, almost _desperate_ , as if by reaching some arbitrary number of successful serves, the answers he's looking for will reveal themselves. 

Suga turns to face Daichi again, his face blank. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was not expecting that. He lets Daichi move him, then, to lean against the wall a few feet from the door; the cold of it seeps through his jacket, grounding him.

“All I know is that when I got here, he was pacing outside the door, and Hinata wasn’t with him. Again.” Daichi scrubs his hands over his face, bringing them down to cover his mouth. His voice is muffled as he continues, “I figured he needed some sort of distraction, so I told him to help me set up the equipment. We finished in record time, what with him running around like he was being chased, so I figured he'd had enough of a warm-up already, and told him to practise serving. He looked like he needed to hit something, and I'd rather it be a volleyball than anything else."  _I second that_ _._

“How long has he been like that?”

“It's been ten, twelve minutes since I got here. He's been doing that for something like five. I would have snapped him out of it sooner, but it’s just-”

“That he looks like he’s figuring something out, and you don’t want to interrupt whatever it is,” Suga finishes. 

Daichi looks at him gratefully, and Suga gives him a wan smile - it's the best he can do at the moment. Then he gives him a Look, and Suga knows what that means. "You're later than usual, by the way."

Suga huffs. "There was a cat, there was nothing I could do. And anyway, it was only a few minutes."

"I can set my clock by you, Sugawara Koushi - that is no excuse." He gives him an arch look, which swiftly mellows into something softer. "I'm glad you're here now."

Somewhere amidst the swirling worry in the back of his mind, something tender blooms for his captain. Outwardly, Suga raises an eyebrow. 

"Really," Daichi insists. If his tone hadn’t made it abundantly clear, the slope of his shoulders clearly communicates his relief. "Even if you don’t have any ideas about what to do, at least I have you to tell me I’m not going about this completely the wrong way.”

Suga used to be surprised at how frequently the two of them were on the same page. But now, after years in Daichi's company (and of  _seeking out_ his company), he knows that yet another thing they share is the need to know, when they're uncertain, that they’re doing the right thing, that the action they’ve taken is the best one. And since Daichi always makes decisions for the good of the team, for the good of its members, Suga's job is a simple one.

“I don’t blame you for feeling wrong-footed; I think you did well, under the circumstances. I’ve only seen him like this once or twice, and it wasn’t nearly as scary-looking as this.”

Daichi blinks, nonplussed for a beat, before his expression clears. “He did this yesterday too, didn't he? When he showed up to morning practice looking like he'd been kicked in the stomach.”

“He did. He'd just stopped in the middle of the path to the gym, and I thought he was just waiting for Hinata, but when I got close enough, he looked…off, to say the least. There was something...I don't know. Something frantic, almost, in his expression. Similar to how he looks now. He responded in a weird way to my teasing too, but I just chalked it up to him feeling odd about his disrupted routine.” 

Daichi wrinkles his brow. “I'd probably have thought the same." There's a moment of silence between them, and they both listen as yet another volleyball  _thwacks_ to the ground. "I think this is something more than that, though. I think this is more than him pining."

“Me too."

Daichi nods, messing up his hair as he runs his fingers through it – another tic that emerges when he’s stressed. "What do you think we should do about this?"

Suga mulls it over for a moment. "I think we should talk to him. If he goes on like this, he might hurt himself. Besides, we won't know exactly what's wrong, and therefore exactly how to help him, without asking."

"I think so too, only...what do you say in this sort of situation? Dealing with lovesick kouhai isn't exactly a common occurrence. Well, except for Tanaka and Nishinoya, but they don't count."

"To start off with, 'how are you doing?' is usually good."

Daichi snorts. "Enlightening. Then what?" 

"It depends on how he reacts to the initial opener, I suppose."

A sigh escapes Daichi's lips. He tilts his head up to look at the sky - still blue, still cloudless. "I guess all we can do is listen if he wants to talk. Or let him know that we're here, ready to listen, if he doesn't."

Suga smiles, fond. "You know what to do, Daichi. You're a seasoned problem-solver. Even if said problem is a bit more rose-tinted and goopy than usual."

Daichi snorts again. "All right. He's had his chance to think. I think we should go in and say something."

"Say something about what?"

Suga shrieks, but Daichi manages to slap a hand over his mouth in time to muffle it. They both turn to look at the intruder, sighing with relief when they see that it's not Kageyama; the intruder shrinks back.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to sneak up on you!" Asahi says, in an awful attempt to whisper. He looks more terrified than both of them put together.

Daichi recovers sooner than Suga, and doesn't hesitate to give Asahi a swift karate chop to the shoulder. "You're the one that just took at least a decade off both of our lifespans, don't look at us like we put spiders in your morning omelette." 

Asahi blanches. "You...didn't put spiders in my omelette, did you?"

" _No_ , you giant hairy baby. Oh my _god_." Daichi pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Your timing is awful, but it's all right, Asahi. It's not like you knew," Suga assures him, when he's got his breath back. Asahi rubs his shoulder, giving Suga a watery smile.

"So what were you-" 

"Uh...is everything all right?" Kageyama's head is poking around the door, and they all freeze like they're playing the world's least fun game of musical statues. In the commotion, he hadn't noticed that the sounds from inside had stopped.  _Great._

"Of course! Why wouldn't it be?" Suga chirps hurriedly, and Daichi pinches his nose harder.

"I...don't know?" Kageyama responds, reasonably enough. _Oh dear._

Asahi promptly ejects himself from the conversation, mumbling something about warming up. "I'll go join you!" Suga says, going for breezy but missing it by about three continents and an ocean.

However, that's apparently enough for Kageyama, who nods and moves to go back inside. Hinata, naturally, picks that moment to come bounding up to them, expelling a bright, "Good morning!" The three third years return the sentiment, and Kageyama just _tch_ _es. Well, that's normal enough - so far so good._

Suga turns to watch Kageyama and Hinata interact, intending to use what he sees to help him figure out how to best approach Kageyama later. After all, there's no point being unnecessarily upbeat if he's in a bad mood.

In the moment between Hinata entering the gym and Kageyama yelling at him for  _being late, again, dumbass_  (despite the fact that less than half of the team is present, so he  _can't_ be late yet),three things are blatant to Suga.

The first: how Kageyama's eyes widen nearly imperceptibly, with something like nervousness, as Hinata approaches him. This contrasts greatly to the way Kageyama's bodyangles itself just slightly towards him, seemingly of its own volition. The second: how Hinata's smile looks just a _touch_ too wide, his greeting to Kageyama just a _touch_ too cheerful. There's also a red mark on his right knee which Suga's _sure_ hadn't been there yesterday, suggesting he fell off his bike again (Suga hadn't said anything before, taking what Hinata said at face value, but _oh_ , is he going to now).

The third: how he needs to have a _talk_  with _both_  of the love-birds about what the _hell_ has been going on with them lately, and  _soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Miki (written 美姫) means beautiful princess. I know, I'm a nerd. Note: all the names I've chosen for OCs have meanings that fit, in some ways, their characters. What a _giant_ nerd.]
> 
> Next chapter: [soft wailing from the attic that might or might not just be your imagination]


	17. in which kageyama doesn't work well under pressure and daichi doesn't know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is not prepared in the slightest, and Daichi hopes someone knows what's going on, because he sure doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. WOW. Yep, I have basically nothing to say at this point. Nothing except 1) I am continuing this fic (exhibit A: this chapter), 2) JESUS FUCK WAS THIS HARD TO WRITE, and 3) [muffled screaming]
> 
> Woah son. It's been so hard finishing this chapter. Like, ridiculously hard (and I have mostly no idea why that was). I actually don't think I could have done so without help and support from the wonderful [vesloth](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/). I don't have the words to describe how thankful I am, so here is some gibberish instead: fhdfh dfhuixg fdghjof fhdd jghogpg nvfjod sfh! Give her a hand everyone (or five, or fifty)! 
> 
> Seriously, thank you so, so much :')
> 
> Speaking of support, thank you for continuing to send in comments even though I dropped off the face of the Earth, and as for those, and all the other comments I haven't replied to yet: I promise I'll answer every last one soon. It's the least I can do after you guys take the time to send me your thoughts! Thanks so much for all of those - every single one puts a really dumb-looking smile on my face :)
> 
> And to all new-comers (and old-comers): greetings! It is I, zadderlee! I'm a massive nerd who writes about massive nerds, and I love you a lot. A whole lot. A whole whole lot. [hands you a balloon animal]
> 
> Please don't hesitate to send me an ask/message me on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/) (about basically anything, including this fic, Haikyuu!!, other anime you've seen me reblog, and/or bird migration patterns); I'd love to hear from you :) (And if anyone would like fic updates on tumblr so it isn't just months of nothing while I flail and sob, please let me know!) 
> 
> So without further rambling, I present you with the thing! I hope you guys enjoy it :)  
> ~zadd  
> P.S. AO3 is goofing for me at the moment, so if something looks weird, know that I'll get to it soon

It’s not exactly a surprise when it happens.

It reminds him of a scene in those dumb horror movies Hinata picks out: there’s a brief moment of utter silence, supposedly to ramp up the tension, before some maniac covered in blood pops out. He always knows – especially when he’s watching the third in a string of nearly identical films – when it’s coming. When the soundtrack cuts out and the camera focuses on one spot for entirely too long, perhaps on a close-up of the main character’s slack-jawed face, he knows it’s not a matter of if, but _when._

And sure enough, he’s just turned around from dumping some volleyballs in the cart, his mind entirely focused on his options for lunch (a much safer option than all the other thoughts he should probably be entertaining), when Suga is suddenly _there._ He’s smiling pleasantly, but there’s a steely look in his eyes that’s somehow more scary than an ankle-grab or fake gore; it’s a look that says _there’s a problem here and I’m solving it or so help me god,_ and Kageyama is appropriately slack-jawed.

“Hey, Kageyama, have you got a minute?”

 _Sorry, but I’m really busy regretting every action that has led me to this point_ , he wants to say. But he only nods, helplessly following Suga as he leads him out of the gym and into pale light of the morning. And there, playing with the hem of his t-shirt like he hasn’t been the sole cause of Kageyama’s problems these past few weeks, is the dumbass himself.

His head jerks up when he hears their footsteps, and he doesn’t look in Kageyama’s direction, keeping his eyes on Suga as he waits for him to speak. _Good. That’s good, that’s-_

“Your spiking was…decent today,” Kageyama finds himself saying, and _yep_ , there it is – Hinata’s unflinching gaze, right on him. _Why did you do that, why did you do that,_ why _the_ fuck _did you do that?_

“Thanks!” Hinata replies, eyes bright from the ( _rather lacklustre, so why is he so-_ ) praise. “There was one toss you did that just went _zoom_ right to where Tanaka-san’s hand was – that was so cool!”

“…Yeah.” _Nice. Kageyama Tobio: King of Conversation._ Hinata’s still looking at him, and Kageyama can’t help but worry if his thoughts are somehow showing on his face, if Hinata might be able to decipher something from it that Kageyama himself doesn’t understand.

In the end, it’s him that looks away first, staring at his shoes like they hold the power to undo everything that just came out of his mouth.

“Well,” Suga says brightly, clapping his hands like an elementary school teacher, and Kageyama starts at the noise, then swiftly pretends he didn’t. “I don’t want to keep you too long, so I’ll make this quick. To start with, how have you two been doing lately?” _Fuck. Fuck shit fuck._

They didn’t think to discuss what to do in this situation, and since Kageyama’s brain is currently full of swear words and not much else, he’s relieved when Hinata speaks first. “Sorry, Suga-san, but why are you asking?” _Good – deflection is good._

He _hmmms_ , giving each of them a look Kageyama can’t interpret. “I’ve just noticed a few odd things is all. You coming in late a few times, Hinata, and Kageyama this morning…” Hinata darts a glance at him, and Kageyama thinks Suga _must_ have done that on purpose, because he could have gone his whole _life_ without having to explain that. Never mind that he’s not sure whether he actually _can._ “I’m just a little concerned, and I think that both of you would appreciate me addressing a potential issue if it starts affecting the way you play. If there _is_ something wrong, getting to the root of it as quickly as possible would be the best course of action. So, is there?” Suga looks at him, then, as if waiting for him to launch into a reasonable explanation for everything he just described, and Kageyama realises that now would be an excellent time to be someone else.

“Well…”

“…I mentioned I had an alarm...problem, I think,” Hinata cuts in, throwing a rope to a drowning man, and Kageyama could just- _shake his hand._ “Well, my parents are up early anyway, so…my mom wouldn’t mind waking me up if she needs to. Problem solved! And…” Hinata looks pointedly at him.

“And…I got mad about…math.” Really? _Really?_

“Yeah, didn’t you do badly in your last test?” Kageyama probably owes Hinata a meat bun after this.

“Yep. My teacher is probably going to kill me later.” That part isn’t even a lie. (Kageyama can picture it now: Miyamoto-sensei’s eyes boring into him as soon as he walks into class. _No, a series of increasingly larger question marks was not the answer to problem four_ , they seem to say.)

Suga smiles, seemingly placated. “Is that all?” Kageyama nods. “All I can say to that is that I’m glad it wasn’t something we won’t be able to fix!” He claps his hands again, his expression determined, and feeling comes back into Kageyama’s hands as he unclenches his fists. “I’d suggest asking your teacher what you can do to understand the material better; perhaps you can ask for some extra worksheets or problems.” _That’s like trying to fix a broken dam with a piece of gum._ “After all, a teacher’s job is to do everything they can for their students! And if you’d like any extra help, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Suga-san.”

“No problem! So you’re sure there are no issues between the two of you that you’d like to talk about? Maybe clear the air?” He looks between the two of them, and Kageyama shakes his head, not trusting himself to say anything more.

“Nope! We’re good,” Hinata responds brightly.

“If you’re sure, then that’s fine. And you both know that you can come talk to me or Daichi if there’s something on your mind, right?” He reaches over to ruffle Hinata’s hair, then Kageyama’s, and Kageyama can’t even find it within himself to be mad – _Suga-san has that effect on people._

“Of course!” Hinata says, laughing as he shakes his hair like a dog, only for it to look exactly the same as before.

“Yeah.” Kageyama arranges his fringe with much more success, and just about stops himself from pushing a disobedient lock off of Hinata’s forehead. _It’s only because it’s so messy – it’s annoying._

The smile on Suga’s face turns fond. “Right then, I'd better let you two go. I think they’ve finished clean-up in there, but it might be a good idea to check if there’s anything you can help with.”

“Right!” Hinata makes to charge off, but when he realises Kageyama hasn’t moved, he stops. “You coming, Kageyama?”

“You go ahead, I just wanted to ask something.” He might as well, while Suga’s offering help.

“Okay!” With that, Hinata disappears in a flash of colour. His ensuing shouts are soon joined by Tanaka’s, and Suga snickers, before seemingly remembering himself.

“Sorry, Kageyama. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah, everything is fine, Suga-san. I just wanted to ask about whether...if you wouldn’t mind helping me with another subject.”

“Of course! Which one do you need help with?” The end of Suga’s sentence is drowned out as people start to leave the gym, Tsukishima’s snide voice particularly audible, and Kageyama waits until he’s sure that they’ve gone before speaking (he doesn’t want to deal with _that_ particular headache if he can help it).

“Well,” he starts, after their voices fade again. “The book we’re studying in Literature right now is really weird and boring, and Hinata said that you could help him with it because they use the same book every year. So I was wondering if you might…what is it?” A wrinkle formed in Suga’s brow as he spoke, and Kageyama does not like the look of it. At all. “If it’s a burden, I can just ask my teacher," he offers. 

“No no, that’s not it. Of course I can help you with it. The thing is, I didn’t tell Hinata anything. I don’t know, maybe you got it mixed up?”

“Wh-” Kageyama cuts himself off, not even sure what he was about to say. His nails bite into his palms, but the sting of it feels far away, like storm clouds on the horizon. _So Hinata wasn’t with Suga when he- Then where was he-_ What _was he-_

 _No._ That’s not the issue. That’s not what he should be focusing on here. What he should be focusing is on is _why._ Why did he feel the need to?

_Why doesn’t Hinata feel like he can tell me the truth?_

_What have I done to make him feel like that?_ The thought makes him feel like he’s been dunked in ice water.

“Kageyama?”

“You’re sure he didn’t come and speak to you about it yesterday?”

“I’m sure.” Suga frowns. “Hey, Kageyama, are you okay? You look pale.” Suga puts his palm on his forehead as if to check his temperature, and he flinches away. “Kageyama?”

He shakes himself, taking a step back. “…Sorry. Sorry, I’m fine. I think I just need to…eat something, or whatever. Could we talk about this later?”

“Sure, but-”

“I should go. Thank you, Suga-san.”

“You’re welcome.” Kageyama feels Suga’s eyes on his back as he walks past him into the gym, but Kageyama thinks he might be the least of his problems.

 

.-.

 

Daichi watches as Kageyama darts inside, picks up his water bottle and jacket, then darts back out again.

“What was that about?” Asahi asks, frowning. 

“I have no idea,” he says as Suga leans around the door, presumably waiting to see if the coast is clear (i.e. Hinata-less) before waving Daichi over. “But maybe Suga does.” It’s clear, however, when he reaches him, that Suga doesn’t know either. He’s pacing, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and that never means anything good.

“What-”

“Hinata lied to Kageyama about something,” Suga murmurs lowly, clearly conscious of being overheard.

“ _What-”_

“According to what Kageyama just said, Hinata told him he was with me when he wasn’t yesterday, and Kageyama just found out.”

“ _What?”_

“Yep.”

“But…why would he lie about it? I mean, _Hinata_ lying to _Kageyama_? About something that would make Kageyama run off like that?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I wanted to talk to them together to see if how they reacted to each other would tell me anything, and I got the feeling there’s something they weren’t willing to tell me – perhaps not even if they were alone. But this…” He trails off, and Daichi can’t blame him. This kind of revelation isn’t exactly conducive to fully-formed sentences.

“Do you think we should say something? Hinata was in the equipment room – I think he still is – and he doesn’t know that Kageyama knows. I mean, I don’t…”

“I don’t know.” The sound of Hinata’s unsuspecting laughter filters through the quiet, and the noise is jarring in the hush that Kageyama left behind him. “I really don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [holds up a piece of paper with a crude drawing of a cat and a question mark on it]
> 
> 'Kageyama feels Suga’s eyes on his back as he walks past him into the gym, but Kageyama thinks he might be the least of his problems.'  
> ALTERNATE PHRASING (a.k.a. where things spiralled into madness):  
> as he cartwheels past him into the gym  
> as he back-flips out of his life  
> as he back-flips out of Japan 
> 
> 'It’s clear, however, when he reaches him, that Suga doesn’t know either.'  
> ALTERNATE PHRASING:  
> that Suga knows as much about the situation as Daichi knows about the surface of Neptune  
> as Daichi knows about that weird container of orange stuff at the back of his fridge  
> as Daichi knows about Vincent van Gogh’s left toenail  
> as Daichi knows about the contents of Tanaka’s underwear drawer (he doesn’t want to know. Ever)


	18. in which hinata freaks out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata's just as unsure of what to do than before (if not more so), meaning more help is in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [opens a heavy wooden door, emerges from crypt covered in cobwebs and dust] [holds out a fistful of bloodstained papers] Here you go guys, chapter 18! 
> 
> Seriously though, wHAT HAPPENED THERE? WHERE EVEN WAS I ALL THIS TIME BECAUSE HECK IF I KNOW. I mean exam hell/waiting to hear back about uni after exam hell killed me for a while (I got into my second choice which turns out to be the better option anyway [!!!], if anyone's interested in what turned me into a walking corpse full of facts about why Freud's a dickhead) but then afterwards??? I mean I've talked about that airline food, but how about that update schedule? Eh? Eh? [taps microphone] Is this thing on?
> 
> It's a bloody good job that I had the absolutely amazing [vesloth](http://www.vesloth.tumblr.com/) to beta this and reassure me that I do, in fact, have a grasp of the English language (because for a while there? lol no)! Thank you so much my buddy my pal, your help and support has been truly invaluable!!! 
> 
> Lastly, comments!! Oh my gOD I'M SO BEHIND I'M SO SORRY. Thank you so much for all of them, they all make my day (week, month, life - take your pick really, they're all true), but when they pile up, oh man. Cue me getting intimidated by said pile until said pile is ridiculous and I'm mad at myself. But I swear, even if it takes me until I'm a retired old cat lady (I have to say, I'm looking forward to it), I promise I'll reply! They all mean so much to me, and it really is the least I can do after all your kind words. 
> 
> As always, I'm on [tumblr](http://www.zadderlee.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk to me about basically anything - come tell me about how your brother ate that pizza you were saving in the fridge if you want, I am all for it (and now that this chapter's out and no longer consuming my soul, I promise to be better about replying over there too, holy heck). Also let me know if you're interested in updates/sneak previews/chapter out-takes (because I laugh at my own jokes even if they're too dumb to use).
> 
> And so, to the three people who didn't get bored reading this, I present chapter 18! I really hope you enjoy it!! :)
> 
> ~zadd 
> 
> P.S. [insert usual comment about me probably changing things at the last minute and me catching any errors you may see when i'm not half-asleep here]
> 
> P.P.S. If the formatting looks weird to you then you too understand my anguish
> 
> P.P.P.S. (last one I promise) shout out to the song 'Pop Culture' by Madeon for getting me over that last hurdle. [single manly tear] thank you

After Hinata received... _that_ message from Kenma, he didn’t feel the tentative hope that had warmed him when he first picked up his phone - hope that he’d at last found a distraction from his troubling thoughts - nor the white-hot panic that came later when Kenma promptly ripped that hope to shreds. He didn’t even feel the viscous, clinging embarrassment that has begun to bubble up whenever his ‘relationship’ with Kageyama is mentioned ( _Where’s your not-particularly-better half? Can you tell your damn boyfriend not to block the classroom door the next time he comes to meet you? So how are things with Kageyama?_ ) even in passing. And that was because he was very, very careful to feel nothing at all.

He doesn’t know how long he stared at the screen (it felt as if he’d blinked and the minutes had fallen away like shrugging off a blanket), but the soft glow that illuminated his frozen thumbs had enough time to wink out. He was tempted to throw his phone across the room and put a valiant effort into going to sleep, but that felt too much like giving up. ( _That felt too much like acceptance._ ) So, very deliberately not looking at _that_ message, he found himself typing _sooo hw do u actully get in a position to attck the boss nyway_ like the last half hour never happened.

After a few minutes, Kenma responded in the same fashion, giving savant-level advice as casually as if it was something he’d read off the back of a cereal box, and not a word more about it was said between them. 

It’s only now, after getting through practice mostly by muscle memory, suffering through an interaction with Kageyama and keeping his smile wide throughout Suga’s friendly interrogation through sheer force of stubbornness alone, that he realises neglecting to process everything in the privacy of his own bedroom might not have been the best idea.

Thankfully, he’s one of the last ones left in the club room - Tanaka and Nishinoya’s laughter and Asahi’s affronted groans are growing fainter as they turn the corner - meaning less people are around to notice how his fingers tremble slightly as he buttons up his shirt. _It’s nothing, you’re fine,_ he tells himself, but without the hustle and bustle of the team around him, without the fever-bright distraction of a volleyball rushing to meet his palm, the words sound hollow, meaningless. He _knows_ what it is, knows what makes Kageyama’s presence to his left feel all at once familiar and foreign.

How the _heck_ did he have the nerve to look him in the eye earlier? If Hinata tries it now, he can’t imagine he could do it without his smile fracturing around the edges. He can’t decide whether it would be worse if Kageyama noticed, or if Hinata managed to successfully lie to him. _Again._

He’s so lost in thought that it takes Suga clearing his throat (dramatically) to get his attention. He whips around in time to see Suga raise an eyebrow, twirling the club room keys around his finger. “Are you guys almost done?”

“I am, I guess.”

“I could use a few more minutes,” Kageyama says, voice even; Hinata’s next breath is shaky on the exhale. He can’t discern any particular emotion from Kageyama’s tone, and _when_ exactly did reading Kageyama become so difficult? ( _Maybe when_ you _plunged the two of you into uncharted waters, maybe when all this_ acting _made it difficult to have a conversation without wanting to preserve words you never thought you’d hear - never_ imagined _you’d hear - in amber, under glass, for when this all judders to a stop. Maybe-)_

 _What are you thinking_ _?_ Hinata wants to ask. He imagines unpacking the contents of Kageyama’s head, laying them about his feet (every swathe of incandescent anger, every shred of prickly concern, every sliver of quiet contentment) and wonders if things would start to make sense again. He keeps quiet.

“Well you’ve got a few minutes before you really, _really_ need to get going, but…” Suga trails off, sharing a loaded glance with Daichi.

After Suga introduces his elbow to Daichi’s side, Daichi continues. “But, to give you a bit of extra time, how about we give you the key to lock up and I’ll take it back next break?”

A hysterical laugh curls up under his tongue, but he just about manages to bite it back down. _Sure, that’s fine. There’s nothing I’d enjoy more than a moment alone in a small room with Kageyama. In fact, why don’t you just leave us here together all day! It’d be like that game show, you know the one: Try Not To Let The Awkwardness Melt Your Face Off. A real family favourite._ “Okay,” he says.

“Right, well, we better get going - and fast. When you’re a third year, teachers don’t let you off the hook so easily.” Suga winks. “Remember that.” _If I survive the next five minutes, I’ll tattoo it on my forehead._

“Sure!” he replies, and wonders if that sounded as apprehensive to the others as it did to him. Suga gives him a soft smile as he presses the key into his palm, but he’s not sure if he imagines the sympathetic tilt to it, so it’s hard to say.

“We’ll see you two later,” Daichi calls over his shoulder. Hinata watches their retreating backs as they step through the door, closing it behind them; he feels a little like a kid watching his parents leave on the first day of school, taking what seems like the last friendly faces in a cold new world away with them. He turns back to the wall, pulls his last shirt button through its buttonhole, and tries to pull himself together along with it. _Deep breaths._

Shouldering his bag and gripping onto it like a lifeline, he turns to face Kageyama; he’s careful to keep his gaze limited to Kageyama’s nose, his cheekbone, but never his eyes. Kageyama doesn’t move, staring at the shelves in his line of sight as if their mere existence offends him. Hinata gulps. “Well, I’m done!”

Kageyama makes a low noise of acknowledgement, bending to tug on his socks, and that’s not so out-of-the-ordinary. But the way Hinata scrambles for something to say next is; now that he’s shattered the silence, he won’t let the pieces slot back together again. He’s squeezing the keyring looped around his middle finger, hard enough that he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark, when his swirling thoughts of _escape escape escape_ give him an idea.

“Uh, so should I wait for you,” he begins, tone as light as he can make it, “or do you want me to go ahead?”

Kageyama tenses slightly, and Hinata knows instantly that it was the wrong thing to say. After all, Kageyama is a creature of habit (and by extension, so is Hinata, since he’s present for nearly all of them). There’s no quicker way to make it obvious that something’s up than to deliberately deviate from routine - that’s what put them on such unsure footing in the first place. _Stupid._

“Do whatever,” is Kageyama’s brusque response.

“I’ll...I’ll stay then.” Kageyama hums absently, as if he doesn’t care either way, but the frown that his mouth curves into says otherwise. “So...uh…” Hinata flounders for a moment, cursing the day some jerk decided communication should be _verbal,_ before picking a (hopefully inoffensive) conversation topic out of his ass. “Everyone did super well this practice, huh? Everyone’s working hard and, you know...making progress.”

Kageyama makes some sort of noise at that (a huff? A puff? Can he succeed in blowing down the club room so Hinata can _stop talking_ already?), but doesn’t say anything. “Yeah, I mean...Tanaka-san’s straight was cool before, but now it goes _zoooom_ instead of _whoooosh_ , you know?”

“Mmm.” _Well, not exactly encouraging, but better than nothing_. Hinata sneaks a peek; Kageyama’s putting on his shoes, almost ready to go, and the thought of having to extend this conversation until they reach their respective classrooms makes him feel vaguely nauseous.

“And- and Yamaguchi’s serve is getting pretty awesome too, huh? Tsukishima looked almost...proud, or something. It was gross.”

“Mmm.” Hinata steals another glance; he only has enough time to register that Kageyama is done, shoulders hunched up to his ears and hands stuffed deep in his pockets, when their eyes meet.

 _Oh no. No no no._ It's as if he's living through a nightmare: the ones he gets where he knows there’s something shifting in the shadows behind him, he’s _certain_ of it, but he’s frozen, forced to confront it head on _._ Of course, he usually wakes up before that part, but he doesn’t have the luxury of that this time – or, hell, the luxury of being mauled by a nameless horror instead of… _t_ _his._

His brain is screaming at him to wrench his gaze away, to break the tension by saying something stupid (“Hey Kageyama, Kenma’s convinced I have actual gross mushy feelings for you, isn’t that hilarious!”) _,_ but nope, he’s gone straight past both fight and flight and right to _just let it be over soon._

Because there’s something warm and bright unfurling within him, like summertime in his chest, and he’s not sure how to shift it. He’s not sure if he can.

( _He’s not sure if he_ wants  _to._ )

Kageyama opens his mouth, his breath coming out in a sigh, and when exactly did they get this close? Did he take a step closer? Did Kageyama?

“Hinata…” His voice is low, but it's loud and echoing in Hinata’s ears all the same. It’s like waiting for the opposing team to serve when they’re at match point; when the crowd and the blood in his veins roar in perfect time, and the moment holds in it every possibility. Victory and defeat both. Hinata holds his breath.

“Hinata, I-” Kageyama swallows, audible in the hush of the room. “You-” He shuffles his feet, and Hinata can tell the exact moment when Kageyama changes his mind about what he’s going to say: he looks away briefly, shifting his bag strap on his shoulder, and his face is impassive when he looks back. “You’ve buttoned your shirt wrong.”

Hinata looks down. “Ha, you’re right,” he says, in a voice that doesn’t sound like his. His fingers tremble this time too, but he isn’t worried about Kageyama noticing. Kageyama doesn’t look at him, not even when he nods his goodbye at the end of their silent walk. Not even when he walks into his classroom, sliding the door closed behind him.

 

 

.-.

 

 

It takes three tangents, eight practise sentences ( _“Can I pet your dog?” - the kind of English he could normally get behind_ ) and five stifled sighs from his teacher for Hinata to crack and get out his phone.

It’s a low-level risk, as far as this sort of thing goes: Asaka-sensei has the ‘new father’ look down to a T, complete with the faint smell of baby powder and turmoil, and hasn’t noticed at least two other students getting out their phones under their desks. But that doesn’t mean _he’ll_ be able to get away with it (as his mother once phrased it, nudging an eight-year-old Hinata aside to reveal a broken plant pot, he has an _expressive face_ ).

But there’s an awful feeling that’s spreading through his body, as sharp and merciless as lactic acid, and sitting here, unable to do anything constructive, is doing nothing to alleviate it. Besides, he figures it’d be a good idea to talk to the person who just picked up his world and shook it like a snow globe. And if he also wants to have a conversation with a friend that doesn’t frustrate and confuse him for once – _who is he kidding, it’d be so much easier if that was all he was feeling –_ then sue him.

 

> **_You [08:47]_ **
> 
> _kenma pLS tll me ur phone is on vibrate_
> 
> _or ur playin tht weird ‘cat wake up’ game_

 

He passes the next few minutes by doodling a pudding cup with cat ears, and consequently wishing he’d eaten more for breakfast, before his phone buzzes quietly in his lap. It makes him jump, and he just about manages not to bang his knees on his desk; the way his day is going, he counts that as a win.

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:51]_ **
> 
> _Fortunately for you I am playing that ‘weird game’_
> 
> _Why what is it_

 

> **_You [08:51]_ **
> 
> _ths is bad kenma_

 

He takes a moment to check if anyone has noticed him, but everyone around him looks half asleep and Asaka-sensei just started writing an assignment on the chalkboard very, very slowly, so he’s probably safe for now. His phone buzzes again, and he leans back a little to better see the screen.

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:52]_ **
> 
> _..._
> 
> _What are you talking about?_

 

> **_You [08:52]_ **
> 
> _kenma, u kno_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:53]_ **
> 
> _Right_
> 
> _So you’re saying I’m allowed to talk about it now_

 

Hinata can practically hear the sigh that accompanied those messages from here. Yikes.

 

> **_You [08:53]_ **
> 
> _yh, u can_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:54]_ **
> 
> _Well, lucky me_
> 
> _…So what made you want to?_
> 
> _Talk about it, that is_

 

> **_You [08:54]_ **
> 
> _kageyama spoke 2 me ths mrning_
> 
> _nd I just…ugh_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:55]_ **
> 
> _Ugh?_

 

> **_You [08:56]_ **
> 
> _i hv no idea_
> 
> _vrythings just rly weird nw_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:57]_ **
> 
> _…Should I not have said anything yesterday?_

 

> **_You [08:57]_ **
> 
> _no dnt be dumb_
> 
> _i mean I askd u_
> 
> _i know its nt ur fault_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [08:59]_ **
> 
> _So what actually happened?_

 

> **_You [09:00]_ **
> 
> _well i mnged 2 b normal arnd him during practice (??mayb?)_
> 
> _thn i talked 2 much nd he didnt say anthng_
> 
> _thn he looked lke he ws going 2 say somethng but tld me I buttoned my shirt wrng instd_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [09:01]_ **
> 
> _Smooth_
> 
> _So it’s the situation that’s ‘ugh’? Kageyama didn’t do anything…I don’t know_
> 
> _Ugh-y?_

 

Hinata almost snorts before he remembers where he is.

 

> **_You [09:02]_ **
> 
> _ugh-y??_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [09:03]_ **
> 
> _Exhibit A of why I don’t usually do this sort of thing_

 

That manages to coax a smile out of him. If Hinata wasn’t sure before that this was the best decision to make, it’s abundantly clear now.

 

> **_You [09:03]_ **
> 
> _well i apprciate it nyway, rlly_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [09:04]_ **
> 
> _It’s no problem you walnut_
> 
> _Now, you didn’t answer my question_

 

> **_You [09:05]_ **
> 
> _no kageyama didnt do nythng_
> 
> _althgh…_

 

> **_Kenma!! ^.^ [09:05]_ **
> 
> _Although?_

 

> **_You [09:06]_ **
> 
> _well we kno y i ws being weird_
> 
> _but y was he??_

 

> **_Kenma ^.^ [09:08]_ **
> 
> _That…is an excellent question_
> 
> _Any ideas why?_

 

> **_You [09:09]_ **
> 
> _none_
> 
> _things hve been weird in gneral i guess_

 

Hinata blanches.

  

> _i hope i hvnt done anytihng_

 

> **_Kenma ^.^ [09:10]_ **
> 
> _I have a feeling he’s not going to tell you even if you did_

 

> **_You [09:11]_ **
> 
> _jeez im gonna hv 2 c if i can think of nythng_

  

> **_Kenma ^.^ [09:11]_ **
> 
> _Shouyou…_

 

 _Shit,_ that did not sound good.

 

> **_You [09:11]_ **
> 
> _wht???_

 

> **_Kenma ^.^ [09:12]_ **
> 
> _Have you thought about what I said?_

 

> **_You [09:12]_ **
> 
> _whch part??_

 

He knows which part.

 

> **_Kenma ^.^ [09:13]_ **
> 
> _The…’have it bad part’ from last night_
> 
> _I mean, knowing for sure where you stand on that would help, I guess_

 

If someone had told him a few weeks ago that he’d be here, seriously contemplating the nature of his _feelings_ for Kageyama Tobio, his _fake_ _boyfriend_ , in the middle of his Thursday morning English class, he’d have insisted they lie down because _wow, that concussion must be serious._

But if he examines the warm feeling from earlier, if he connects the series of dots that have been aligning themselves since their very first meeting, and every meeting afterwards (when one word from Kageyama was enough to get him vibrating with sheer _sensation_ , be it good or bad; when all he could think about was a way to make them work together as seamlessly as he thought that, just maybe, they could; when his amorphous future at Karasuno resolved itself into Kageyama and him standing side by side), the picture they make is not unfamiliar to him.

He has felt that warm feeling, in its many variations – touched, pleased, _fond –_ before, hasn’t he? Hadn’t he felt it when Kageyama calmed him down at the beginning of all of this, when he saw Kageyama happy and comfortable with his family, when their quick _worked_ in spite of the fake-dating spectacle and everything felt so _right_? When Kageyama walked him home, worried about him, smiled at him?

None of this is new, really. Not the urge to spend time with Kageyama - be it spiking his tosses on the court, having an unremarkable conversation at their lunchtime spot, or even playing a game his sister concocted after bursting into his room. Not the urge to see that breathtaking grin light up his face, the one borne of hard work paying off explosively, or the little curve of his mouth that he saves for quiet moments of happiness; to be the one that _put_ them there. Not even the urge to close the distance between them and wrap his arms around Kageyama’s waist, squeeze him tight and only, _only_ let go when he’s pushed the heck away. (Because if anyone could do with a surplus of affection, it’s that massive nerd.)

There's no room for denial, not now that Kenma might have put a name to the chaos that erupts inside him whenever Kageyama meets his eye. There’s no point in putting it down to something else, no point in explaining it away. Not when he’s tired and agitated and worn thin by the uncertainty, like tectonic plates shifting, between them. By this unstable ground that he can’t seem to get his footing on.

Because Kageyama’s been his rival, his ally, his teammate, his friend and his _best_ friend, but it’s taken him this long to realise that he’s never been _just_ any of those things. He’s fit into all those boxes, but they’ve never been big enough to contain all that he is - all that he is to Hinata _._ The label that has fit him best all this time is _Kageyama_ , because the word has become synonymous with sweat and tears, with camaraderie, with a hand he thinks he’d like to try holding not for the benefit of others, but because _he_ _wants to_. And what the _hell_ is he supposed to do with that?

 

> **_You [09:18]_ **
> 
> **_i thnk_ **

 

That’s as far as he gets before he hears the cough. He looks up, and _oh no_ , his mother was (as she _always is, god damn it_ ) right.

“Hand it over Hinata-kun, and we’ll discuss at the end of class when you’ll be getting it back.” Asaka-sensei raises his eyebrows, to scattered laughter from the class (including the two illicit texters that he’d _totally_ take down with him if he was a shittier person), and Hinata puts his phone into Asaka-sensei’s waiting hand.

As Asaka-sensei walks back to the front of the room and the class starts to settle down again, Hinata feels uneasy; it’s almost as if he’s been underwater for the past half an hour, and he’s emerged, shivering and dripping and changed, into a world that is none the wiser.

With his phone gone, he finds he has nothing to do with his hands. He curls and uncurls them for a minute, restless, before picking up his pen with a sigh. _Although, it's_ _p_ _robably for the best that it got confiscated_ , he thinks as Asaka-sensei writes another task on the board. Because, as he is finding more and more frequently these days, he has no idea what he was going to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [you know that mating noise lemurs make? that plus me screaming]


	19. in which kageyama is, in fact, embarrassed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama makes poor decisions (what else is new) and comes to a realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy update schedule Batman! Boy howdy has it been a while - I hope you guys had a happy, healthy and safe start to 2017 and are doing good In General. All I can say is a) hot damn university is serious business, and b) I've got to try extra hard to find that writing head space™ I mentioned. 
> 
> There is good news however: with help from the absolutely wonderful, shiny [vesloth](http://vesloth.tumblr.com/), I have the entire rest of this fic mapped out. Jesus H Christ, if all goes well then there are only five or so chapters left!!!!! How crazy is that????? Again, I can't promise anything about updates (the Curse won't let me) but that should help things run a bit more smoothly from here on out. 
> 
> Thank you so much for continuing to send in comments in my absence - each one is like a li'l shot of sunshine. I'll also have chance to reply to some more of those in the next few days, so please don't hesitate to share your thoughts if you'd like to! All of them, along with kudos, bookmarks and subscriptions (and don't forget hits!) are so precious to me ^^
> 
> Lastly, I'm pretty active on [tumblr](http://http://zadderlee.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi/yell in my general direction about most things really (especially lizards). Okay, that's it from me - I hope you enjoy the chapter!! 
> 
> ~zadd
> 
> P.S. Any remaining errors are my own and will hopefully vanish soon like all the others. They say that if one listens closely, one can still hear their screams...

Kageyama doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Really, if he’s completely honest, he doesn’t know what he’s been doing for weeks now. He doesn’t know what he was doing when he first let himself be persuaded, as he so often is, by Hinata’s bull-headed conviction, when he first held Hinata’s small hand in his own, when he first felt the air between Hinata and him become tense and strange. And he certainly doesn’t know what he’s doing now. Least of all now.

Class ended a few minutes ago, the sound of voices bubbling up over the teacher’s parting words snapping him out of the stupor he’d been in since the club room. And when the bell went, he was on his feet before he could even think about it. He was on his feet, and his feet took him here.

 _Here_ not being somewhere sensible, like a toilet stall (so he could pull out his hair in peace) or at the vending machine that he swore dispensed nicer drinks than the others (so he could spend a few moments in dairy-fuelled oblivion) or even Daichi and Suga’s classroom (so he could tell them he’s quitting the club to join one without any tiny orange-haired gremlins that laughed and pouted and _lied_ ). _Here_ being outside of Hinata’s classroom. Again.

As he tries valiantly to become one with the wall, he reassures himself that _if I’m going to be embarrassing, I might as well be consistently embarrassing._ Besides, a group of girls clustered around one desk noticed him as soon as he stopped outside the door, giggling in a way that made Kageyama wonder how exactly hyenas found school uniforms that fit – he has to see this through now.

The only mercy he’s been handed is that Hinata hasn’t seen him yet (Kageyama has been using the precious time until his inevitable detection to attempt a reasonable facial expression, but the girls are still laughing so he suspects it’s not working).

Hinata is at the front of the room, talking to a teacher who looks a little too amused to be reprimanding him. Though, judging from Hinata’s sheepish expression, that must be what’s happening. Hinata says something, and the teacher says something in response; whatever it is, Hinata apparently feels very strongly about it, because he starts shaking his head like he’s trying to dislodge it from his neck. Then – _ah, there it is_ – the teacher produces Hinata’s phone from the desk and puts it back in Hinata’s hands.

 _Idiot_ , Kageyama thinks, his lips quirking up in spite of himself. Of _course_ he’d get caught if he attempted to text in the middle of class – Hinata has all the subtlety of a volleyball to the back of the head (Kageyama would know). He was probably making faces at his phone as he typed, probably laughing under his breath or muttering denials as whoever he was talking to responded. After all, garnering a reaction from him is so  _easy_. He’s expressive all the time, even with the most reserved of people; Kageyama has no doubt in Hinata’s ability to pull people gently along until they can match his break-neck rhythm, to start conversations lively enough to get him caught on his phone. Kageyama had first seen him do it with Nekoma’s setter, and no one from Dateko’s giant blocker to, well, _him,_ seems to be immune.

But he certainly wasn’t texting Kageyama (the thought of that right now, of seeing Hinata’s annoying emoticons again, is bizarre). So was it Kozume? He knows they talk often, but since Hinata hasn’t complained about his phone getting confiscated before, he’s not sure what might have happened to get him to deviate from the norm. So was it someone else? Aone? That loud, bouncy guy from Nekoma that he’d gotten on with before?

Or was it someone Kageyama doesn’t even know about? Someone who's seen Hinata light up, just for them, in the same way he has?

 _Was it the person he was with when he said he was with Suga-san?_ The thought rises up in his mind like something freed from the heavy mud of a riverbed, something that never should have reached the surface; he pushes it back down because _it’s not his concern._ He’s gotten used to thinking like Hinata’s boyfriend – he’s had to – but he’s _not_ , _obviously,_ and even if he was ( _where are you going with this, brain_ ) of _course_ Hinata could talk to whoever.

Yes, Hinata lied to him, but until they talk about it (and they are going to, he _swears_ ), Kageyama shouldn’t make assumptions.

Still. They didn’t talk about it, but there’s no reason that Hinata can’t be interested in someone else. Kageyama is not (and this _cannot_ be stressed enough) Hinata’s _boyfriend_ , and asking what he did that made Hinata think he had to lie to him, asking that they be honest with each other from now on, would be a good place to start as his _friend_.

Then, as his friend, Kageyama would tell him to clue him in next time so that he doesn’t screw anything up, doesn’t make their teammates think that Hinata’s _cheating_ on him of all things.

 _There’s nothing to cheat on,_ Kageyama could say, but then everything they’ve done so far – every soft word, every careful nudge of their hands – would be for nothing. So as Hinata’s friend, Kageyama would ask that, if there is someone he wants to date for real, he wait until they stage a break-up, wait until the dust has settled, to pursue it.

If Kageyama brought this up, and if that were the case, Hinata would surely get it immediately, would understand how things should go so that no one would get hur- so that it wouldn’t _look_ like anyone got hurt. _Let’s break up,_ Kageyama would say, and Hinata would beam, would say _okay,_ or _about time_ or _finally, it’ll be nice to go back to normal._ And Kageyama would say _yes, it is._

But first, Kageyama would ask _are we okay?_ Because it’s all well and good for Hinata to be acting weird to make the break-up more convincing, or whatever the hell is going on, but Kageyama wants to make sure they have a normal to go back to.

That’s what he should be focusing on here, instead of all… _that._ They should talk first, should talk _now_ , while he’s here. He should stop jumping to conclusions, because while previous experience (volleyball experience, but that’s beside the point) has taught him to be prepared for all eventualities, there’s only so much someone can do without an awareness of the situation. As soon as Hinata’s done with talking to his teacher, Kageyama will call out, will talk to him so that he can finally understand what’s going on. So that, together, they can develop a match-winning strategy. So that he'll never again be left on the right side of the net but the wrong side of the argument. Kageyama will call out – he flicks his gaze up to catch Hinata’s eye and do just that. He’ll call out, and-

Hinata’s talking to someone else. While Kageyama was lost in thought (thinking instead of _doing_ ), Hinata stopped talking to his teacher and started talking to someone else. Someone blonde, tall enough to make a good blocker with practise. She says something, her mouth curving prettily around the words, and Hinata smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. He says something that makes her laugh, the sound like coins dropped in a well. She’s so open, so expressive. Like sunshine, bright and welcoming. _Just like Hinata._

Kageyama realises he’s just been frozen, staring, when the girl notices him. She smiles at Kageyama (all light and warmth and good things - for someone she doesn’t even _know_ ), and elbows Hinata in the side to stop the rush of words from his mouth. She points Kageyama out to him, stood in the doorway like an illustration in a book of children’s ghost stories, and for lack of anything better to do with himself, he nods. She nods back, as if that made perfect sense as a greeting, and- _leans down to whisper something in Hinata’s ear._ Kageyama blinks, looks away.

Huh, he never noticed how deep the pockets in his pants are. This is clearly the only reason he’s shoved his hands in just now, the only reason he’s playing with the change he finds there. He finds himself listening intently to the soft clinks the coins make, as if the sound could tell him something. He has enough money on him for two milk boxes, like he usually does – his apparently roomy pockets can house it comfortably. He’s only been drinking one milk box lately though. He hasn’t minded it.

There’s a cough, and Kageyama glances up. There it is – he’s caught Hinata’s eye just like he wanted, only he’s so much closer than Kageyama had envisaged. Hinata’s cheeks are just a little bit pink – _was that from what that girl said to him? Or is it me? What does it even matter?_ – and he’s frowning like he’s not sure what to do with his face. _That makes two of us._

“What–” Hinata begins, but he doesn’t finish.

“I–” There are so many things he could say; the words are right there, crowding at the back of his throat. _Can I ask you something? Can we talk? We need to talk. I found out something, and I think we should discuss it. Are we okay?_

_Does she make you happy?_

“I…was going to get a milk box,” he says instead.

“Yeah?”

“Do you- Do you want-” _Do you want to break up?_ “Do you…want to come with?”

“Oh. Uh, sure. I don’t have any money though.”

“So?” Kageyama always carries around enough for two in his pockets.

“Oh. All right then, I’ll come. Okay.”

Silence falls between them again as they walk beside each other, and Kageyama can’t bring himself to fill it with any of the things he knows he should. It’s dumb- no, it’s _extremely_ dumb, and he _knows_ that. But to talk about it means that Kageyama will _know._ He’ll know for certain whether Hinata’s counting the hours until this is over, whether Hinata would rather have spent this time with someone he _actually_ likes.

This way, they can go and get milk boxes, can sit together and drink them, and Kageyama won’t know that Hinata’s wondering what it would be like if someone else were in his place. _We’ll talk soon_ , he thinks, fingers still jangling coins, imagining her laugh (wondering if _Hinata_ is imagining her laugh). _Soon_ , _just not yet._

 

.-.

 

Kawano sits down across from her friends, who greet her with varying levels of enthusiasm before returning to their conversation. No one bats an eyelash as she gets out the manga she borrowed earlier and opens it in her lap, though they’d probably have something to say if she got engrossed in it the way she’d like to. It’d be rude to tune them out, but flicking through wouldn’t hurt, surely. Not if she pays attention to what they’re saying.

... _What_ are _they saying?_

“I wish _my_ boyfriend did things like that,” Miyamoto says dreamily around a mouthful of cream bread. _No clue there_. Miyamoto’s boyfriend is about as romantic as a kick in the shin - she’s always saying stuff like that.

“Like what?” Sasori asks, taking the opportunity to steal a bite of Miyamoto’s bread while she’s distracted.

“Like coming to see me for no real reason!”

“Right? I mean, looking at Kageyama-kun, you wouldn’t think he’d do things like that. And _yet…_ ” _Yep,_ _that clears it up._

“At least you two _have_ boyfriends!”

“Puh- _lease_ , like that’s _so_ important. We have other stuff to focus on right now, right, Kawano?”

“Right,” Kawano says absently, returning to thumbing through the manga now that she’s confident she knows what’s going on.

“Oh hey, that reminds me – what did you say to Hinata-kun to make him go all shy like that?”

Yukimura snorts. “Yeah, it was pretty funny.”

Kawano smiles down at the image she randomly landed on: a short-haired girl who's smiling, besotted, at her crush. “Nothing really. Just something he probably needed to hear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: [[shrugs]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRsWk4JZa5k/)


End file.
